


Where We Are

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Barebacking, Boys Kissing, Cheating, Compromise, Confessions, Conversations, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Consent, Fireplaces, Geese, Holidays, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Masturbation, Rain, Reminiscing, Secrets, Sex in a Car, Sexual Fantasy, Sleeping Together, Spit As Lube, Walks In The Woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: Nicky takes Mark on a week away in hopes of rekindling their relationship, but over seven days they'll realise that maybe things are more broken than they've let themselves acknowledge.





	1. Day One

Nicky supposed there were certain habits that were hard not to fall into. After eight years together, eight wonderful years, as cliché as that turn of phrase was, some things Nicky had learned by rote.

So, driving down the little lane, trying to navigate through the close-packed trees and the worn signs, it was almost impossible not to watch Mark sleep. Nicky had gotten used to it. To waking up in the night and laying there for a little while until he drifted off again, watching dark lashes shift slightly, the rise and fall of his chest. Watching him nod off sometimes when Nicky wasn't quite tired yet, blue eyes floating shut like a slow eclipse, parting lips. Knowing, so perfectly, that Mark was vulnerable, that he was alive and warm and breathing, and that Nicky would protect him.

He had been dozing in the passenger seat for almost an hour, and it was so hard not to pull over and watch. Run his hand through dark hair, try not to wake him. Wanting him, guiltily, to stir. To smile sleepily and yawn and touch Nicky's hand and say something sweet, then curl up tighter and close his eyes again.

The trees broke. It was prettier than Nicky had expected from the website, completely perfect. He'd known Mark would like it from the first, a secluded cabin in the Scottish countryside, not far from a lake, closed in by trees. The last few months had been manic, and he'd seen the stress tugging at Mark's mouth, heard the shortness in his voice where it hadn't been before. His eyes had been flat. Nicky had liked that the least.

But they had a break now. Time off. He wanted it back, the brightness in Mark's eyes, the smiles that teased the corners of his mouth, dimpling into his cheeks. He wanted...

Mark grunted softly and sat up slightly in his seat, peering through the glass. After a moment disoriented blue eyes turned towards Nicky, scrubbed with a clumsy hand.

“Hey.” Nicky pulled the car up in the drive. Mark yawned, then smiled when Nicky squeezed his knee. “Good morning.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“An hour?” He tugged up the handbrake. Mark sat up properly, fumbling for his seatbelt.

The ground was soft when they climbed out. The drive was unpaved, rutted earth, grass sprouting on either side. The air felt wet and cold, clung to Nicky's skin. Mark stretched. Beautiful. Long muscles and flushed cheeks. Nicky met him around the back to open the boot and took the opportunity to wrap his arm around his boyfriend's waist. Mark made a content little grunt, but didn't return it, though Nicky supposed he was still half asleep.

“This is pretty.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah.” Mark shielded his eyes, peering around the clearing. The sunlight was painting dappled spots onto his skin. “This'll be nice, right? A week away?”

“It definitely will,” Nicky agreed. Mark kissed his forehead, then, before pulling away to grab his bag. Nicky let go.

The path was slippery under his feet. He followed Mark towards the cabin, the sun warm on his back.

 

*

 

Nicky liked it when Mark cooked for him. They were both adequate in the kitchen, neither great chefs, but good at one or two specialities each. Nicky didn't mind about the food, there was just something fun about sitting at the kitchen island and watching Mark move around, having a chat and not having the TV blaring between them or a laptop or book blocking his view.

This place had a much smaller kitchen. It was a nice place, rustic and cosy, but not at all cramped. They'd tossed their bags in the bedroom, Mark laughing and deflecting Nicky's suggestion to try out the bed, mentioning that food might be a good idea first. Nicky had grudgingly agreed, and now they were sat in a stone kitchen, Mark warming a pan on the stove.

“What do you want to do after lunch?”

“No plans.” Nicky reached for a biscuit from the welcome basket that had been left on the table. To Mr and Mr A. Rock. They'd booked in under an alias, of course. This was their holiday. “Go for a walk, if you like? Have a look around?”

“Sounds good,” Mark replied. Nicky nibbled at the biscuit. “You wouldn't be spoiling your lunch, there, would ya?”

“Never.” Nicky got rid of the evidence before Mark could turn around. His cheeks were still bulging when Mark gave him an accusing look. He swallowed guiltily.

“Don't see why I should trust you.”

“You shouldn't.” Nicky winked. Mark rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. “Not about food, anyway.”

“Everything else, though?”

“Think so.” Nicky smiled and stood up, rounding the table and the counter until he could wrap his arms around Mark's waist from behind. “Mm.”

“Mm,” Mark chuckled. He turned in Nicky's arms, giving Nicky room to nuzzle into his throat. “I'm sorry if I've been... short with you lately, or anything like that.” He sighed, eyes softening a little while Nicky looked up at him. “I'm really sorry.”

“Me too.” Nicky nodded. “It's been...”

“Yeah.” Mark cupped his cheek. Nicky pressed a kiss to a perfect mouth, felt it curve in a smile against his. “I love you. I really do.”

“I know.” Nicky kissed him again, wrapped his arm around broad shoulders, and pulled them flush together. Mark's spare arm looped around his waist. “It's okay. It'll be okay.” He closed his eyes, trying to find that softness again, that smell. He'd missed it, somehow, even though he saw Mark every day. “This'll be good for us, though. A week away, time to ourselves.” He arched his hips in emphasis, felt Mark laugh and a cheeky grind meet him in return.

A kiss touched his neck and then he was let go, Mark turning back to the pan, which was finished warming. Butter and vegetables began to go in, filling the room with a hot sizzle and the smell of cooking. Nicky hoisted himself up on the kitchen island to watch.

Mark turned on the radio and began to hum along.

 

*

 

If Nicky had to pinpoint the exact moment he realised he wasn't happy any more, he'd have been hard pressed to do so.

It wasn't that he was unhappy, really. Mark had never made him unhappy. It was probably one of those things that happened to every couple. It all started out very exciting – it had for them at least – stolen kisses and flirty looks and the sorts of arguments that felt more like getting the stupid crap out of the way so they could worry about the more important things. They'd not meant to end up together. If anything, Mark had avoided it. Excuses about what was best for the band and not wanting to ruin things over a fling. Nicky hadn't cared. He'd just wanted Mark. Wanted Mark to touch him the way Nicky could see he was thinking about.

It had burned hot and fast. Turning to see Mark looking at him hungrily and wanting to drag him away, having to do it, clawing and biting in cupboards and hotel rooms and behind curtains, trying to pretend that it was just getting off. That it didn't have to _mean_ anything.

They'd both known they were kidding themselves. They'd both pretended not to care.

It had meant everything.

It still meant everything. It was their lives. Getting up in the morning and having this stable, effortless thing that didn't change. Because Mark loved him, and Nicky loved Mark back. They had a house together, a plan together, a life.

Nicky couldn't remember the last time Mark had looked at him like that, though. With a savage hunger that said it wasn't just about paying joint bills and arguing pointlessly over whose turn it was to put out the bins.

He loved Mark. Loved him.

Lunch was gorgeous. They ate outside, bare feet trailing on the pavers as they sat at the little wooden garden table, under the eaves of the back porch. The lake was somewhere nearby, Nicky could hear it, smell it. Insects and frogs were chirping and croaking. Mark's foot touched his under the table.

“Seconds?”

“If you're offering.” Nicky touched him back, but Mark pulled away and grabbed his plate, headed for the kitchen. When he came back out it was with more food. Nicky nodded his thanks.

“I can't remember the last time we went away like this.”

“No,” Nicky agreed. “Definitely been a while.”

“Was it the dirty weekend in Prague?”

“You mean the one where we got food poisoning?”

“That's right,” Mark chuckled. “Well, it was quality time, at least, considering both of us were trapped in the bathroom. What was that, three years ago?”

“We said we'd have a do-over.”

“Only took three years.” Mark reached for the salt. “Good thing we're doing all our own cooking here. If I get sick I'll know who to blame.”

“You?”

“Ha.” Mark's eyes didn't laugh, though. His foot touched Nicky's again. “Okay. Do-over. Dirty weekend.”

“Sounds good.” It sounded exhausting. Nicky didn't want to think that. They'd come away for some peace and quiet, some alone time, intimacy. He felt more like having an afternoon nap than anything, especially on a full stomach. Mark didn't look all that interested either, was idly stirring his food with a fork.

“Nicky?” Nicky looked up, into careful blue eyes. “You okay?”

“I'm okay.” Of course he was okay. “Why?”

“Just seem quiet lately.” Mark pushed his plate aside. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Nothing to talk about.” He forced a smile. Mark did too. “Do you?”

“Can't think of anything.” Mark looked towards the lake again, eyes drifting out slightly. “I'm full. You want to go walk off lunch?”

That sounded nice enough. Nicky went to get his jacket while Mark cleaned up the plates.

His hand fell into Mark's as they began to walk. He felt an answering squeeze in response, stepped a little closer, the hand in his warm despite the cool breeze.

This was fine, probably. Normal. They'd been together ages, nobody could expect it to be like lightning all the time. There were lulls, little dips where maybe life got in the way. It certainly didn't mean they were any less. Not for a second.

Nicky stepped closer, feeling the warmth of Mark's body radiate against him.

 

*

 

“You don't have enough newspaper.”

“You telling me how to build a fire?” Mark looked back over his shoulder. Nicky shrugged. He was laid on his stomach on the sofa, watching idly while Mark tried to get something going in the stone fireplace, though he wasn't having much luck.

“Carry on, then.” Nicky closed his eyes, heard the sound of crinkling newspaper and soft swearing. They'd had a nice stroll. The lake was beautiful. They'd walked around the shore for a way, mostly in silence, both of them kicking gently at rocks and pointing out where fish were making ripples on the water. Mark had held his hand most of the way.

“There we are.” He opened his eyes to an orange glow. It had been an ember before, now there were flames crackling, building and spreading along the logs Mark was carefully adding to the pile.

“Nice one.”

“Told ya.”

“My hero.” Mark crawled back to sit on the floor against the sofa, head rested near Nicky's waist. Nicky found his shoulder and squeezed. He looked beautiful, in the fluttering golden light, shadows chasing each other across his face. Nicky ran a hand through his hair, loving the simple touch of it through his fingers. A kiss pressed to his palm when Mark turned.

“Bit romantic.”

“Just a bit,” Nicky echoed. “Ever mention that I love you?”

“It's come up.” Mark moved a little closer, a dimple courting his cheek. “Eight years, huh?”

“Eight whole years.”

“Think we'll manage another eight?”

“Don't see why not.” They probably would. At this stage the whole thing was fairly easy. He and Mark, plodding along into the sunset, probably bickering over who'd used the last of the milk. There were definitely worse ways to live a life. “You want to?”

“What else am I going to do?” Mark pointed out. Nicky knew it was teasing, but... “Anyway, I don't feel like getting used to someone else's bad habits. I already know all of yours."

“And who else is going to put up with you warbling away at all hours of the day? Anyone else'd get sick of it after a week.”

“Right? Nobody else would want us.” Mark chuckled. “Could definitely be worse.”

“Definitely.” Nicky let go of his hair. The fire was settling now, probably needed a bit more wood, but it was still burning bright, a steady roar. He stared into the flames. “I do love you, you know. I've never stopped doing that.”

“Good.” Mark prodded the fire with the poker, then shifted back against the sofa again. “Ditto.”

“Good.” Nicky touched his hair again. “Come up here, okay?”

“Budge up, then.”

“No. Just...” He stretched out a little longer, pressing himself to the back of the sofa. “Come up here.” He patted the space in front of him, the long strip of cushion. There wasn't loads of room, but they didn't really need it. Mark dutifully climbed up, and after some good-natured jostling there was finally room for both of them, Mark wedged slightly underneath, Nicky cuddled to his chest. He could feel Mark breathing underneath him.

“Bit cramped.”

“Don't care.” He rested his head in Mark's neck, kissing sharp stubble. An arm wrapped tightly around to hold him in. “It's nice.”

“It is.” A hand stroked his shoulder. Nicky almost purred. This was it. Better. Feeling Mark's touch on him, the slow comfort of a chest rising and falling, alive. “Don't go to sleep.”

“I won't,” Nicky promised. And he didn't. Not even when he felt the breaths beneath him even out, the hand on his shoulder loosen. Mark's eyes were closed, lashes trembling on his cheeks and cheeks a little flushed.

Nicky settled in to watch.

 

*

 

When they woke the fire was down to embers, dying in the hearth. He opened his eyes to a kiss on his forehead, a hand stroking his spine, and when he looked up Mark was smiling sleepily at him.

“Hey,” Nicky croaked. Fingers cupped his cheek.

“Hi.” Mark's mouth connected with his. It was soft. More a touch, careful and coaxing, and after a moment's drowsy hesitation Nicky responded, parting his lips to let through a tongue that was a little dry and sour with sleep.

“Oh,” Nicky muttered. There was interest under him. Leftover from sleep, probably, but there was no point wasting a good thing. “Oh,” he gasped again, when Mark arched up. “Oh, right.”

“Right.” Mark's mouth caught his, harder this time, and a mingled moan shivered between them. Nicky didn't think he was entirely awake, but that didn't really matter, not when large hands were sliding up under his shirt, stroking up his sides to make firm patterns back down his spine.

They rolled over awkwardly, giggling and fighting on the narrow sofa. By the time Mark was on top Nicky was a little breathless, and his shirt was hiked up to his armpits. He wriggled it over his head, began to tug at Mark's. Mark kissed him again.

“What do you want?' Nicky asked, when it broke. The shirt came off. And that was Mark, alright. He knew the body almost as well as his own. Every flaw and crease and line, the bits Mark didn't like but Nicky barely noticed, because they'd been there all along. He traced his thumb over a peaked nipple, because he knew Mark liked it, enjoying the slight shudder and the quiet moan.

“What do you?”

“Anything.” Nicky pulled him back down again, caught him in a kiss. An arm hooked under his head, bracing Mark up, cradling Nicky in. Nicky arched when he felt the other hand grope between them and downwards.

“Want my hand?”

“Want you.” He kissed Mark again. Not like this. Planned out and efficient, figuring out the fastest way to get them both off so they could pack it in for the night. Wanted it like the old days, necking for hours and just exploring, basking in it. “Slow.”

“Slow.” Kisses bit down his neck. He pressed into it, letting out a soft purr when Mark found the spot that always made him weak. “Bed?”

“Not yet.” Didn't want that. The sober moments between getting up from here, climbing the stairs, and sliding into the sheets.

“Naked?”

“Definitely.” Nicky wriggled, laughed when Mark did too, a playful smirk teasing his mouth before his lips sealed to Nicky's throat again.

The rest of their clothes hit the ground after a bout of more awkward wriggling and laughter. By the time they were naked and Mark was back on top they were both a little breathless, Mark's eyes dancing in the shadows thrown by the dying fire. Nicky caressed his cheek, wished he could see him a little more clearly. Didn't need it when he knew Mark so well.

“Tell me something I don't know about you yet.”

Mark looked confused, partly by the question, partly because Nicky was suggesting a conversation halfway into making out. “You know everything about me.”

“I can't know _everything_ ,” Nicky replied. “One thing.”

“Erm.” Mark pursed his lips. “I don't know, Nico. Can't think of anything.” His arm was back under Nicky's head, and Nicky tilted into it when he felt fingers toy thoughtfully with his hair. “Like what? What's something I don't know about you, then?”

“I...” Nicky hesitated. He couldn't think of anything. Not a damn thing. Mark was looking at him expectantly. Favourite colour, first school, mother's maiden name... it all felt like the sorts of questions you'd fill in as a backup for your password, and Mark knew all those already anyway. “Tell me something real,” he decided. “Something you were thinking or... something you did or didn't do that you would never tell me.”

“I don't have secrets from you, though.”

“Everybody has secrets.”

“What's your secret, then?”

Nicky hesitated again, tried to think. Mark was looking a little impatient now, and he had a feeling he'd broken the moment. Mark was too heavy on top of him, when they weren't moving, and he shifted to get more comfortable.

“Okay.” He found one. “I was going to quit Westlife.”

“What?” Mark's eyes widened. Nicky felt himself flush. He didn't think he'd said this one out loud to anyone, not even himself. “When?”

“Right back at the beginning.” He took a deep breath. “When things were starting to get manic, and we were all over the world for months at a time with no break and up all hours, I... I thought about it. About just packing up and going back and maybe seeing if I could get into the Garda again and live a normal life. I was overwhelmed and exhausted. I just kept telling myself to get through one more week, and then one more day, and then one more hour and...” He paused, realising Mark was looking concerned. “Yeah."

“You never said.”

“I didn't want everyone to freak out. We were all so stressed, and I figured if I wasn't going to leave right that second, maybe I wasn't going to leave at all. But I was burning out. Half the time I was just shut up in my room trying not to cry over the phone to my mam.”

“Shit,” Mark breathed. “Why did you stay, then?”

“This is going to sound disgusting and romantic,” Nicky joked. Mark gave him a nervous half-smile. “Remember the first time I kissed you?” Mark nodded. Nicky had walked into his room while Mark had been getting ready for bed, grabbed him, and planted an awkward, open-mouth kiss on stuttering lips. “I'd fancied you for ages, but I hadn't done anything about it. You weren't gay, as far as anyone knew, and I didn't want to make things weird, but I'd decided. That I was going to quit in the morning.” Mark's eyes widened again. “So I figured I'd bite the bullet, seeing as it wasn't going to matter anyway.”

“It did matter.”

“I know. So... you kissed me back, and then we ended up... you know.” God, groping and fumbling, making out on the bed for ages, hands above clothes but just knowing it was going to go further if they gave it another couple of tries. He'd never been so turned on in his life. “When I came down to breakfast the next morning you smiled at me and I figured I could give it a bit longer, maybe.”

“Shit,” Mark muttered. “I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. It doesn't matter. I stayed for you. I'd always stay for you.”

“Not because you love doing it?”

“I do love doing it.” He shifted until Mark could settle more comfortably between his legs. But when I've been pissed off, or upset that I'm not getting more leads, or... or... I don't know, when I feel like it's bigger than me and I'm just doing it out of duty I stay for you.” He hadn't meant for it to get this soppy, had just thought of that one little secret. “If you said you wanted to go, though, I'd be bags packed and out the door.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Nicky drew Mark into a slow kiss. When it broke Mark was still watching him carefully. “It doesn't matter. Not like you matter.”

“I...” Mark pursed his lips. Nicky could feel his heart, beating faster between them. “I... wouldn't do the same,” he said quietly. Nicky nodded slowly. He couldn't say he hadn't expected that. “If we're saying things we've never said, then...” He took a deep breath. “If you were going to quit today, I'd keep going, I think. I'd miss you. I'd be really upset that you weren't there, but I couldn't just drop it all. It means too much to me.” He looked up, nervous. “I'm sorry, that makes me sound like an arsehole. It's not because...”

“I get it,” Nicky interrupted. “You were born to be up there. I wouldn't expect you to give that up.”

“I get pissed off at it too. I do. But when it's good, it's... it's everything I ever wanted.”

“What if I asked you to give it up?”

“You wouldn't.” Mark said it with such certainty it was beautiful. Nicky felt a flutter of love in his chest. “You would never do that. And if you did, I don't think I could be with you. Same as I'd never ask you to give up something you wanted.”

“I wouldn't ask,” Nicky agreed. Mark nodded slowly. It appeared they were in agreement. “I'd miss the hell out of you, though.”

“Ditto.” Mark leaned in to kiss him, and halfway in, when it hadn't broken, Nicky realised they were both still naked, and arched up a little, pressing them together. The kiss was harder, suddenly, physical and raw in a way it hadn't been ten minutes ago. He grabbed Mark's arse with both hands, yanking them together, and heard a rough growl.

“Take me upstairs,” Nicky urged. Mark shook his head.

“Take you right here.” Teeth sank into his neck. “Right here.” Nicky groaned. Mark was hard against him, getting harder, and Nicky could feel his own interest, sensitivity when they found a rhythm, building pressure. Mark let out a soft cry into his neck. Nicky echoed it, the thrumming pleasure becoming a throb. Fingers slid between them, one rolling over his balls and then down, pressing against him. He squeaked in sudden delight, heard Mark's croaking laugh, hot against his ear.

By the time they were both ready Nicky was practically shaking, soaked in sweat, unable to feel anything but Mark's finger on him, the heat of them rubbing together, the pressure so solid it didn't feel like it could end. He was balanced, no closer to release, no further from the edge. Mark was breathing hard in his ear.

He was pulled against Mark when they sat up, yanked into a solid lap. Mark was sat on the couch, Nicky straddling him, clinging to him, and when he felt the guide of bluntness against him he couldn't do anything but sink down, Mark's kiss tethering him to the sofa.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes yes...” Mark was kissing him, cutting off his words. He didn't need them. Just this, hands on his arse, pulling him open while he was split. Agony. Perfect. Spit and the slick of pre-cum and fucking hell.

“That's it,” Mark crooned. Nicky heaved a groan. “Tell me if it's too...”

“Don't stop,” Nicky interrupted. Mark made a low hum of approval. “Don't...” He gasped again, eyes opening too wide when Mark curved up against the spot. “Please.”

He settled after a moment. Sunk all the way down, Mark's hands drifting all over him, soothing him through it while he trembled. They didn't do this all that often, certainly not as unprepared as this, but fuck, Nicky _needed_. Mark was cradling him, wrapped around him, and it hadn't been like this. Not for years. Because _fuck..._

Mark let go a little, and Nicky got the message. His own speed. He lifted slowly, saw Mark's head tilt back, eyes flutter shut, and when he sank down he saw Mark's teeth dig into his lip, felt the warning shudder.

“Go slow,” Mark croaked. Nicky leaned in, guiding soft hands until they were wrapped in each other again, foreheads leaned together. “Slow,” Mark warned again. Nicky smiled.

He sank down again, felt fingers tighten on him, and when they cried out it was together, mouths open and swallowing each other down into a kiss. The rhythm Nicky found was ragged, slow and shuddering, but Mark found the other side of the beat, pushing up as Nicky pushed down, pulling him in, and by the time they were close it was damn near perfect.

“Gonna come,” Mark breathed. Nicky moaned, felt Mark's pleasure reach him deeper than his own. “Gonna come, babe. Can't stop.” Their mouths caught again. Not quite there yet, but Nicky could feel the extra snap of his hips, the throb of him filling. “Want you.”

“Want you,” Nicky whispered back. “Come in me.”

“Yes...” Mark's voice broke. “Nicky...” That was the last warning, and Nicky pushed down, tensed up as he felt the first spill, the swell of Mark overflowing. Tried to milk him, heard the soft cry that suggested he'd succeeded, squeezing down hard and pulling him in as deep as he could go, hands clawing down his back, Mark's thighs shifting underneath him as they clung to each other.

Mark was laughing by the time it was over, almost giggling. Nicky laughed as well.

“So good,” Mark muttered breathlessly. A hand slipped between them. Nicky growled and bit into the ridge of jaw he'd been kissing. The grip tightened. “Stay in you while you come.”

“Yes.” Nicky closed his eyes, sucked to Mark's neck in a desperate bid to find purchase. Mark still filling him, liquid and hard. “Close.”

“Love you.”

“Good.” He held on tighter as he felt the warning ripple of his own climax.

He came with his eyes open, holding on so tight he was afraid he was going to break.

 


	2. Day Two

Nicky slept well that night. He tried to stay awake, they both did. After a shower they did a quick check to make sure they hadn't gotten anything on the sofa, then curled up together under a blanket, Mark snuggled into his side while Nicky dropped absent kisses on his hair.

After a while they started to drift, and when Nicky opened his eyes out of what he thought was just an extended blink, Mark was asleep and he was groggy from his own slumber. They stumbled up to the bedroom and just about fell onto the mattress, finding each other in the dark just in time to fall back to sleep.

When Nicky woke he was in an empty bed and he could smell cooking. He tugged on his robe and slunk down the stairs to find Mark in the kitchen, turning sausages in a pan.

“Morning.”

“Hey,” Nicky croaked. “How long you been up?”

“Not long.” Mark was in his robe as well, bare feet poking out of his pyjama bottoms. “Thought I'd get breakfast on.” He reached out an arm. Nicky went, leaning gratefully into his side and closing his eyes again. He didn't think he was technically awake yet. Mark squeezed his shoulder. “Thought I'd do a big naughty breakfast. There's a pancake mix in the cupboard if you want to start sorting it out?”

“In a minute.” Nicky snuggled closer, breathing him in. Mark chuckled.

“Clingy this morning.”

“Maybe.” Nicky didn't let go. “Thanks for last night. It was nice.”

“Team effort, I think.” Mark nudged him away so he could reach a plate. “You feeling okay?”

“Bit sore. In a good way,” he added. “Haven't done it like that in...” He trailed off. Years, probably. Not that it was ever bad, but that desperation, that lack of preparation... it had certainly been a long time. “How are you?”

“Good. Definitely slept well, I know that much.” A hand reached out, swatting Nicky gently on the arse as he turned to get the pancake mix. “Remember when it used to be like that all time?”

“When we were young, you mean?” Nicky teased. “I do, though. Couldn't keep my hands off you, you sexy minx. Think we set a few records.”

“Five hours I think was the gold star.”

“I would have deflated like a balloon if I'd come again.”

“Nice though.”

“Definitely.” Nicky filled the bottle from the tap, then began to shake the mix. Mark was cracking some eggs into the pan. “Sunny-side up.” Mark didn't need to be told, probably. They both knew how the other liked their eggs. “Can I suggest something?”

“Okay.”

“Let's do a personal challenge.” He tapped the bottle to loosen some powder stuck at the bottom. “Sex once a day while we're here.”

“Once _every_ day?” Mark's voice was joking. Nicky laughed, saw a cheeky smile. “Sort of ruins it if we plan it, doesn't it? Takes away the spontaneity.”

“It doesn't have to be at the same time or anything. We could have morning sex, or throw out a nooner or something... it doesn't have to be like the Brady Bunch, putting on our nighties after the kids are asleep.” Nicky felt himself flush. “Look, if you don't want to...”

“I didn't say that.” Mark glanced over his shoulder. “Is there something up? You've been a bit odd the last couple of days.”

“No. I mean... no. I just thought...” He took a deep breath. “I know things have been stressful lately and I thought it'd be fun.”

“By planning it?”

“No. Fuck, don't worry, then. I didn't mean to suggest we have regular sex or anything.” He heard the annoyance in his own voice, saw Mark looked around in surprise. “Sorry.” He made himself relax, realised he'd been shaking the batter too hard long after there was any point. He put the bottle down.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Mark flipped the eggs out of the pan and onto a plate, then came over, reaching out a hand. Nicky took it. He was pulled into a hug.

“I didn't mean I don't want you,” Mark murmured. Nicky nodded. He was probably acting like an arse, making a big thing out of nothing. “Do you think I don't?”

“No.” Though maybe he did, sometimes. He knew they were both tired and busy a lot of the time, but every rebuffed advance hurt as much as it had ever had, even if he knew the reasons for it.

“Just because I'm not in the mood sometimes...”

“I know.” Nicky pecked his cheek.

“Once a day, huh?” He felt hands squeeze his arse. “Don't see why not. Perfectly reasonable after all.” Mark ground teasingly against him. Nicky didn't know if he was trying to placate him, but it felt nice anyway. “Definitely worse things we could be doing in a romantic cabin in Scotland.”

Nicky nuzzled into his cheek, smiling.

“Definitely.”

 

*

 

They ate breakfast outside and then went for a little drive, just around the hills and through the village. They didn't climb out of the car. This was about getting away from everything, and with Nicky's luck someone would recognise them and there'd be fans and photographers on their doorstep before afternoon tea. Besides, if they needed anything there was a phone number to call and someone would bring it down to their cabin. It was why Nicky had picked it in the first place.

When they got back there was a goose on their doorstep.

Nicky laughed as he climbed out of the car. Must've wandered up from the lake, looked like, this big grey and black thing, three fluffy yellow and grey babies pecking about behind it, then another adult lurking around the mailbox. He'd seen a couple floating around down there the day before, and these looked quite at home.

“Check this out.” He cast a look back at the car, saw Mark still sat behind the wheel, looking wary. Of course. He wandered back to the window, which wound down slightly. Mark was trying to look brave. It was very cute. “You want me to get rid of them?”

“Maybe we just wait here until they go. Or we could go for a walk or something.” He peered through the glass. “A walk sounds nice.”

“I'm not wearing shoes for walking. I'll have to go back inside first.”

“Oh.” Mark hesitated. “I'll wait here, then.”

“I'll sort it out,” Nicky promised, trying not to smirk as he turned away. Mark sounded like he was going to protest, but Nicky was already striding over to the front of the cottage. It was just a bloody bird, anyway.

The one at the door looked up at him as he came over, moved closer to it's babies, then went back to pecking through the leaves.

“Go on, then,” he tried. The goose didn't look perturbed. “Away with ya.” He shooed it slightly with both hands, stepping closer. “I don't mind ya, love, but you're making my fella nervous, so.” It really didn't look interested in what Nicky had to say. “Shoo.”

He took another step closer.

The other goose raised its head, letting out an angry hiss. Nicky took half a step back.

“Just leave it, Nicky.”

Nicky looked back over his shoulder, saw Mark peering nervously out the window. He rolled his eyes, stepping in again. It was a bloody bird, after all.

His foot hadn't even hit the ground when the thing ran at him.

The wings were fucking huge. His eyes widened, and a shout of surprise was cut short when it leapt towards his face, hissing and flapping like a demon. His arms weren't much defence, and he staggered backwards, out of it's path, stopping warily when it landed awkwardly and headed back to its family, then sat down on the front stoop next to the other adult, glaring sidelong at him.

“Erm...” Nicky backed away. The car, at least, was safe.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He flinched when Mark picked a feather gingerly out of his hair. “Bloody hell, you'd think I'd punted one of the chicks into the lake.”

“They're called goslings, and now you see why I don't like them.” The geese were getting settled, didn't look to be leaving any time soon. “Should we call the number, maybe? This might be something that happens all the time. Maybe they have a man who comes to shoo them.”

“What, a professional goose-shooer?” Nicky snorted. “I hope he gets paid well. That thing's a psychopath.”

“Not as bad as swans. Those are mental.”

“Mm,” Nicky agreed absently. “Wait a second.” He leaned across, and quickly beeped on the horn. The first goose stood up, her gosling scattering nervously. “There we go.”

“Brilliant.” Mark honked it again. It sounded loud, breaking through the silence of the lake. He saw a flutter of sparrows launch itself out of the trees in panic and disappear. The geese were still moving, the mother and her babies moving away. The other one didn't look all that startled, skirting around the car with a curious look on it's pointy face. Mark wound his window up.

They both jumped when the wings spread, flapped, and then suddenly there was a large, cranky-looking goose sat on the bonnet of the car. They both stared.

“Er...” Mark began. It hissed at them through the windshield, then folded its wings and sat down, looking smug. Mark tapped the horn again. It glared at them. Nicky sighed.

“Turn the engine on, maybe?”

The rumble only succeeded in pissing it off. Suddenly there was fifteen pounds of feathers and anger, launching itself at the window. Mark recoiled. It wasn't getting in here, but he was still pale. Nicky took his hand.

“Drive forward.”

“What if I hurt it?” Mark argued. Nicky laughed. Trust Mark to worry about the damn goose's safety over his own. He didn't even like the things. “It can't get in. Maybe it'll get bored.” He turned the engine off. They were low on fuel, and it wouldn't do to waste any. The goose pecked at the window, then settled again on the bonnet. Mark sighed. “We'll just wait."

“It's probably ruining the paintwork.”

“That's okay.” Mark settled back in his seat. “We'll give it ten minutes.”

 

*

 

“Can we run over it yet?”

“No.” Mark rolled his eyes. The goose was walking back and forth across the bonnet, had been for a while. Pacing and flapping, pacing and flapping, sometimes a hiss thrown in for good measure. The rest of the family had bogged off ages ago, but this one was apparently taking things personally. It had been almost half an hour.

“Why not?”

“They're probably protected or something. I don't want to get in trouble if it gets hurt.”

“What about us?” Nicky argued. “We going to be stuck here all day like it's bloody Cujo or something?” Mark shrugged. “How much longer?”

“Ten minutes,” Mark suggested. “Just ten, and then we'll try something else.” He looked at Nicky. “Well, this is nice, anyway. Haven't parked with a boy in a long time.”

“True.” Nicky had leaned his seat back ages ago. He folded one arm behind his head, looking up at his boyfriend. “Why, how many boys have you parked with?”

“Couple.” Mark leaned his own seat back. They could barely see the goose now. Fingers found Nicky's across the space between the seats, linking into his. “You?”

“Few.” Nicky smiled. Their sexual histories weren't a secret. Nicky had slept with a couple of boys before Mark, mostly casual things. Mark had slept with two, both in relationships, though they'd been secret ones that hadn't lasted long. He was still friends with Rowen, after everything, which Nicky supposed was nice, even if it had been hard getting past the jealousy.

“I've never seen the appeal, honestly,” Mark pointed out. “Like, I know it's always in movies and stuff, but it's so cramped. I don't get it.”

“I get what you mean. It's one or those things, right, where everyone apparently does it, and then when you give it a go it's a bit shit, actually. Like having sex on the beach. Sand everywhere, and I got a rash.”

“I've never done it on the beach.”

“You're not missing much.” Nicky pulled a face. “It's like anything. Like, everyone went on about how great Citizen Kane was, and when I saw it I was bored out of my mind.”

“Exactly.” Mark shifted in his seat. “Like, I've never liked porn, for instance. I just don't get it.”

“What?” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “We've watched porn together.” They had, a couple of times. Nicky had found a sexy video or something, thought it'd be a bit spicy for a change, and they'd had a wank together, until the video had been more or less forgotten and they'd been making their own explicit scenes.

“Yeah, it just... it's too fake, you know? It puts me off. Like, the lads are hot and stuff, but I can't like...” He shrugged. “So, yeah.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” He felt like an idiot now. He'd done it a few times, thinking the first time had been a success.

“It was nice watching you jerk off. I was watching you more than the video, and it was hot watching you get turned on. I like it when you get turned on.”

“I...” Nicky couldn't believe it. “You should have said something.”

“Why?”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I did.”

“But...” Nicky groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Fucking hell.”

“Sorry.” Mark's hand squeezed his thigh, where it had been left empty after Nicky had let go. “You were enjoying yourself. I didn't want to stop you.”

“Thanks? I guess?” Nicky dropped his hands. Mark was looking apologetic.

“It's really hot when you touch yourself. I've always liked it.”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes I think about it when I sort myself out.”

“Yeah?” Nicky looked up in surprise. Mark was looking a little flushed, half embarrassed, though there was something else heavy in his eyes. “How often do you do that?”

“Couple times a week. Usually in the shower.”

“Why don't you invite me?”

“It's not sex, Nicky. It's just getting off. You don't ever just want a wank?”

“I guess,” Nicky admitted. Mark was right, there was something different about it. Something unattached, just a hand on yourself and getting it over with. It wasn't about intimacy, or specialness, or trying to make someone else happy; it was a wank. “I like you better.”

“Me too. But like... I like a steak more than a packet of crisps. Sometimes I just want to grab the crisps, though, instead of making an event out of the steak.”

“True.” Nicky sighed. “So, you think about me, do you?” Mark hitched a shoulder, looking bashful. “Do you always think about me?”

“No.” The car shifted. When they both leaned up slightly to peer through the glass, the goose was still there, though it looked to be losing interest, was flapping about impatiently. Nicky lay back down again. “Do you?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head. “I think about you sometimes, but if I want you you're right there, so sometimes I think about like... other stuff.”

“What other stuff?”

“Dunno. Sometimes it's not even a person, it's just like... hands or a cock or something. Or it's you, but not you, if you know what I mean. Like, you doing stuff we don't normally do, or saying things you wouldn't normally say. I was doing a fantastic run about Ewan McGregor for a bit there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I'd just finished watching all his motorcycle documentaries, and he just kind of slipped in. So I went with it. Why, who do you think about when it's not me?”

“No-one, particularly. Oh, remember that lad who was in the biscuit advert a couple years ago? The one with his top off?” Nicky did, vaguely. “He made it in a couple of times.”

“Nice one.”

“Yeah, he was a bit filthy,” Mark chuckled. “So what do you mean stuff we don't normally do? What am I doing, then? Is it stuff you want me to do?”

“Not particularly. Just like... there was this one where you were fucking me. Like _really_ fucking me, and I was saying no but you were doing it anyway, and I wanted it. And I know if we did it in real life it'd probably hurt like a bastard, but it was dream sex, so it was kind of hot.” Mark nodded. Nicky felt himself flush. “And... you know. You'd say things. Like... dirty things.”

“Would I? Like what?”

“I don't know. Just really filthy stuff. It'd probably sound ridiculous if you said it out loud, but in my head it was good quality.” Nicky stretched slightly. This seat was comfortable, but not for as long as this.

“I could say dirty things if you want?”

“No, you couldn't. You're not like that.” Mark wasn't. He was always a bit stammering and awkward when it came to things like that. Oh, he'd say normal sex stuff, but it'd be weird hearing him try to say proper filth.

“I could.”

“Of you go, then.”

“Erm.” Mark was already going red. “We're not having sex, though.”

“No, we're waiting for this goose to piss off,” Nicky retorted. Mark chuckled. “Well, we've gotta kill time somehow, I guess.” He began to unbuckle his jeans. It was private here, nobody was going to stumble in on them. Mark laughed.

“Really? After we just said how much we hate sex in a car?”

“What else do you want to do?” Nicky got the belt open, then the fly. Then he had an idea. “You like to watch, do you?” He raised an eyebrow, slipped his hand inside. “Okay, so watch.” Mark's cheeks were going pink, and when Nicky looked up he saw eyes darkening as Mark hesitated in the seat next to him. He tilted his head back, licking his lips while he stroked soft flesh, trying to find the right angle.

“Oh.” Mark was sitting up now, gaze drifting down to Nicky's open jeans. Nicky smirked. “Shouldn't we...”

“Watch,” Nicky instructed. Mark swallowed, eyes flicking up, then looked back down again. That was it. He felt himself harden in his hand, the first rush of blood into his groin. “Mm.” He arched slightly into his grip as he wriggled his jeans down and pulled himself free. “Mm... yes.” He let out a soft gasp, more for Mark's benefit, and heard a soft moan. “That's it, baby.”

“Fuck,” Mark breathed. Nicky tried not to look too smug. This was nice, though, having Mark look at him like that, careful hunger. “Feels good?”

“Feels so good.” He went slow, squeezing from root to tip, then caressing under the head. The next gasp wasn't on purpose. Mark's cheeks were really pink now, his eyes locked onto Nicky, drifting all over him, like he couldn't decide where to look first.

“Is...” Mark was going red now. He leaned in, nuzzling into Nicky's cheek. Nicky moaned happily and nuzzled back, feeling hot skin against his own as arousal took over. “Is that how you do it?” he said hesitantly. “When you think about me?”

“Yes.” Nicky's eyes fluttered shut, a hot bolt of excitement going through him when he realised what Mark was doing. “Just like this.”

“You want it.” Mark's voice was hoarse. Oh fuck. “You want me.”

“I do.” His voice cracked. Fingers caressed his jaw, slid down across his throat. He swallowed. A thumb pressed lightly against his adam's apple, just enough to tickle.

“I want you too.” Mark still sounded unsure, but he was gaining confidence, sounded rough with lust. “I want to fuck you,” he muttered. “Want to fuck you so hard you break.”

“Oh Jesus.” Nicky gulped. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bend you over and hold you down so you can't go anywhere. It'd hurt, but fuck, you'd take it anyway, wouldn't you?” A tongue slid around the shell of Nicky's ear. He groaned in surprise. “Wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” Nicky whispered. “Take it all.”

“You would.” Nicky tightened his grip, moved his hand faster. “That tight fucking arse. You have no idea what it does to me. Love opening it, feeling you on my fingers.” He kissed down Nicky's neck, chuckling when Nicky whined. “Want you to touch yourself while I fuck you. Wouldn't be able to do it myself. I'd have to hold on to you, stop you getting away.” Fingers sifted through his hair, then tightened, yanking just a little too hard. “Keep one hand here,” Mark explained. “The other one...” It traced Nicky's throat, then wrapped around it, awkward in adjacent seats, but still firm pressure.

“Mark...” Nicky sucked in a breath. The fingers tightened, rolling teasingly. “Baby.”

“Touch yourself,” Mark instructed. Nicky groaned.

“Kiss me,” Nicky begged. Mark did, hard and consuming, tongue stabbing in and out so fast it was more like an attack than a kiss. It broke too soon. Nicky stretched out to catch it again, but the hand on his throat was holding him back. He arched, cursing his frustration when Mark laughed and bent in again.

“Mine,” he growled. Fucking hell. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Nicky gasped. He could barely breathe, but was so turned on he didn't care. “Need you.” He did. Jesus. The hand in his hair tugged, the other one flexing slightly. A kiss sucked up the side of his face, tongue flickering over his jaw.

“Want you to think about this next time you're on your own,” Mark urged. “About how I fucked you like this. About how you're mine.” Nicky was pulling in air, trying to fill his lungs, but all he could feel was his impending orgasm, the way Mark was wringing it out of him with pointed words. “When you come, I want you to know it was me.”

“Yes...”

“That I ruined you for anyone else.” Teeth bit hard at the shell of his ear. Nicky cried out in surprise, hips jerking in the narrow seat. His spare hand reached out to clutch at a strong thigh, needing to ground himself. “Take it for me.” He bit Nicky again, just behind his ear, and when Nicky felt pressure and heat he realised Mark was sucking, marking him. He ached. “Feel me for days.”

“Fuck yes,” Nicky croaked. The fingers on his throat tightened, and he was done, listening to Mark's purr of approval when he arched, jerked, and spilled over his own hand, fingernails digging into Mark's jeans to hold himself together.

When he was done the grip on his hair had relaxed, was stroking slowly instead, and the hand on his throat had fallen away.

“So sexy,” Mark breathed, and Nicky was caught up in a kiss. His hand was sticky, caught in his lap, but the other one pulled Mark in, tugging on his nape.

“Let me touch you,” Nicky urged when they broke. Mark was hard. He could see it. Straining against the zip. “Want to touch you.”

“Yes...” Mark kissed him again, then looked up, laughing. “Oh, goose is gone.”

Nicky looked. He was right. “Think we scared him off?”

“Maybe.” Mark let go, turned to look out the door. “Anything on your side?” There wasn't. It appeared the bastard had cleared off. He turned back to look at Nicky. “Shall we finish this inside, then? More room to move.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Nicky looked at his messy hand, then reached over awkwardly to push his own door open. Mark was doing the same on the other side. They looked around, heard a sullen hiss from somewhere nearby.

“Er... shall we move quite fast?” Mark suggested.

Nicky agreed that they should. They bolted towards the door, Mark a little bowlegged, and stumbled inside, giggling. The door slammed. They stared at each other, breathless.

“Hey,” Mark said finally.

“Hey.” Nicky smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

 


	3. Day Three

Nicky lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

It was late, some time after one, and he'd woken up not long before. Wasn't sure why. He suspected he'd had a nightmare, wasn't entirely sure what it had been, but his eyes had snapped open with the sudden horrifying understanding that there was someone in the room.

There wasn't, of course, unless you counted Mark, but the dream lingered, and ten minutes later Nicky found himself scanning the room carefully, looking for a shadow that was out of place, movement in the darkness.

He pushed himself up, knowing he wasn't going to shake the dream unless he woke himself up a little, and when he pushed out into the hall he could already feel it falling behind him, the panic and dread shaken off with every step.

When he got back from the bathroom Mark was sitting up in bed, the lamp turned on.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” Mark was rubbing his eyes, yawning. “Just woke up. Was going to see where you went.”

“Just needed a wee. I had a nightmare.”

“Poor thing.” Mark reached out, and Nicky sidled into bed, smiling when he was folded into an embrace. “What was it about?”

“Don't know.” He wriggled into the kiss on his hair. “Sorry. You can go back to sleep.”

“I'm awake now.”

“Me too.” He was. They'd had an earlyish night, after all the lunacy with the goose. He'd finished Mark off on the couch, had dropped to his knees and sucked him slowly, though it hadn't lasted much longer. Mark had been impressively hard when Nicky had pulled him out, soaking into the front of his jeans.

“How about we go downstairs, then,” Mark suggested. “I could make some hot chocolate.”

That sounded fantastic. The house was dark and cold, but Mark turned the lights on and Nicky shrugged on his robe. It was odd, being up so early, watching Mark get the kettle on while the window behind him showed nothing but darkness and moonlight. Nicky peered out, but all he could see were the silvery silhouettes of the trees.

“Nicky?”

He looked around. Mark was holding a couple of mugs.

“You're in the way.”

“Sorry.” Nicky shifted to the side so Mark could reach the kettle. “Have you had a good holiday so far?”

“I have, actually.” Mark was fussing with the kettle, pouring water into the mugs, then stirring in the powder. “Despite the goose.”

“Despite the goose,” Nicky snorted. Mark put down the kettle. Nicky went to get the milk for him, knowing he'd want it. When he turned around he was already getting a grateful smile. “You seem happier.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” Nicky touched his shoulder. “Could just be me, but things lately have just felt...” He sighed. “I don't know. Like we're not quite gelling or something. I don't know how to explain it.”

“I know what you mean.” Mark handed the milk back for Nicky to return to the fridge. “Any reason for that?”

“I was going to ask you,” Nicky admitted. “Have you been annoyed at me or anything? I feel like I did something wrong but I don't know what it is.”

“I can't tell you. Have you done anything wrong?” Nicky shook his head, but before Mark turned away he saw something careful and disbelieving in big blue eyes. He bit his lip, not sure what that was about.

Nicky collected his mug from the counter. Mark was already headed for the back door. “We're okay, right?”

“We're us.” Mark shrugged. “Do you still love me?”

“Of course.” Nicky laughed, not sure where that had come from.

“More than anyone else?”

“Definitely.”

“Are you going to stay with me?”

“If you'll have me.” Mark nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think that I won't?”

“Just checking.” They sat down on the bench outside. It was a bit chilly, almost eerie, with the shadows of the trees crawling across the small lawn. He could hear things moving in the undergrowth, the babble of the lake. “I guess after eight years... things change. We're not the same people we were when this all kicked off.”

“No, maybe not,” Nicky allowed. Mark took a sip from his mug. “Whoever I am now loves whoever you are now.”

“Good.” Mark nodded. “I think maybe I've just been wondering lately. Not whether I love you, but whether...” He pursed his lips. “This is going to sound weird, but I guess after a while a relationship becomes kind of like a business. Which sounds platonic or heartless, but you kind of... you figure out what you want and as long as certain boxes are ticked there's things that you'll compromise on.”

“That's really romantic.”

“Yeah.” Mark grimaced. Nicky watched him carefully, wondering what was going on in his head. “Like, when we first started out it was about the sex and excitement and stuff. And you can still have that, but after a bit it turns into figuring out how the rest of your life's going to work, whether you're both headed towards the same things. Like, house and family and money and all that stuff.”

Nicky nodded. “I suppose so.” It didn't sound particularly exciting, but it was probably true. “If we didn't want the same things we wouldn't be together, right?”

“Right.”

“It's a partnership."

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Maybe it won't always be perfect, or we won't agree, or we'll want different things, but being with someone is partly understanding that life will be a certain way, and that's a life I like the look of and wouldn't want to do with someone else.”

“Ditto.” Nicky smiled. “The love thing helps, though.”

“It does.” Mark touched his hand. “So, I guess all I'm saying is you be honest with me, and I'll be honest with you, and as long as we stay on the right track we'll probably be alright.”

“How about romance?”

“Romance is nice too.” Mark took another sip of his chocolate. “This is romantic, this whole weekend, but if you did it for the wrong reasons or... or because of a lie, I wouldn't want it."

“I did it because I love you and I wanted you to be happy.”

“That's a good reason, then.” Mark looked at him. Nicky was baffled. What the hell was Mark on about? “If you ever want to tell me something, I want to hear it, okay?” Nicky nodded, still confused. “Otherwise, you wanting to stay with me is enough for now.”

“For now?”

“For now.” Mark nodded. He drained the rest of the mug. “I'm going to try to get some more sleep. Night, Nicky.”

He disappeared into the house. Nicky stayed staring into his drink for a long time, not sure what to make of all that.

 

*

 

“Triple letter score, seventeen points,” Nicky announced. Mark peered at the board.

“That's not how you spell _acquit_.” Mark pointed at the word. “There's a _c_ before the _q_.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Bollocks.” Nicky peered at his letters. “Do-over?”

“You don't get a second chance.”

“Sure I do.” He picked up the letters, peered at his tiles, then put down another word. “There we are. Tiara.”

“That's against the rules.”

“Tiara. Twelve points.”

“Fine,” Mark sighed, jotting it down. Nicky beamed. Mark rolled his eyes. Nicky grinned wider, just to annoy him, got a gentle kick under the table. “Flax. Seventy points.”

“Fuck off!” Mark was already writing it down, a smirk on his face. “How?”

“Double letter on the _x_ , and a triple word, and the _a_ makes a new word when I put it at the beginning of _men_.” Mark looked way too smug. “Your turn.”

“I hate this game.”

“Find something else to do then.” Mark gestured at the window, where the sky was black, droplets streaking down the glass. It had been pissing down all morning. They'd woken late to thunder, the room too dark for eight in the morning. It hadn't stopped yet, and it was almost lunch.

“Fine.” They'd found the game in a cupboard in the upstairs hallway, along with Monopoly and Cluedo, both of which were no good with only two players. Nicky had suggested inviting the goose in to be Colonel Mustard. “Just.”

“Twenty-three points. Nice one.”

“I'm good at this game.”

“I can see that.” Mark looked at the board again. “When we were kids we used to play at Christmas. All the words had to be Christmassy.”

“That sounds hard.”

“It was more about being creative. Like... okay, so you put down _just_ , so we'd say it's _just_ one sleep til Christmas.”

“Ooh, clever.” Nicky smirked. “It's not Christmas, though, so what theme would you pick?”

“How about...” Mark pursed his lips. “We could do a rude version. Like, sex stuff and swear words and that.”

“One track mind.” Nicky laughed. Mark shrugged. “How about we make it about how great I am? Nicky-themed. Like, I _just_ can't believe how good Nicky is at this game.”

“Is that why you're losing, then?”

“Coming from behind. Surprise finish.”

“That's what she said.”

“Ha.” Nicky gestured at the board. “Your turn, though.”

“Okay.” Mark looked at his letters. “Okay, here. Between. As in, if I had to choose _between_ Nicky and the lad from the biscuit advert, I'd definitely pick Nicky.”

“Aw, that's nice.” He grabbed a few letters and began to arrange them on the board. “Stairs. As in... watching Mark walk up the _stairs_ is a great way to have a look at his bum.” Mark laughed, though he looked a little pleased. Nicky was glad. He still wasn't sure what all that weird shit last night had been, but this morning had been much better. Maybe they'd just been tired or something, and it was all down to the late hour.

The game continued for a little while. It turned into a little bit of a competition, each of them trying to think of the most obscure way to compliment the other. There were certainly worse things to be doing, and even though Nicky was at least thirty points behind he didn't much mind.

“Pipe.” Mark put the tiles down. “Er... if someone hurt Nicky, I'd probably hit them with a _pipe._ ”

“Bit of a stretch.”

“You just told me that I was much better looking that a _sheep_ ,” Mark pointed out.

“You are.”

“Thanks.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Your go.”

“Right.” This was his last turn, probably. He only had four letters left, and the bag was empty. “Okay. Got it. Cheat.” He laid down the tiles. “Mark is a nice boy who would never _cheat_ on me.” He waited for Mark to write it down, but when he looked up Mark was staring at the board. “Go on, then. Eight points.”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered. He was still looking at Nicky's word. “I'd never cheat on you?”

“You wouldn't.”

“Yeah. I know. It's just...” He shook his head. “I thought you'd say that _you'd_ never cheat on _me_?”

“I wouldn't either.” Nicky smiled. “Course I wouldn't.”

“Oh.” Mark picked up the pen. “Fair enough.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Eight points.” He put the pad down, grabbed his last letters, and slotted them into place. “Car. Nicky and I were trapped in a _car_ yesterday.”

“By Colonel Mustard,” Nicky added. Mark tilted his head. “That's his name now,” Nicky explained. “Colonel Mustard.”

“Oh, right.” Mark looked at the pad. “I won. By twenty-eight points.”

“Congratulations.” Something weird was going on here. Nicky didn't know what it was, but Mark was still looking at him, like he was waiting for Nicky to say something. Nicky didn't know what he was expected to say. “Another game, then?”

“Might go have a nap, actually.” Mark stood up. “Bit tired after last night. Erm...” He leaned over, kissed Nicky quickly on the cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Nicky touched his hand, but Mark pulled away. “What's wrong?”

“Just tired.” Mark was already halfway towards the stairs. “Wake me when you're putting on lunch, alright?”

“Okay,” Nicky said helplessly. Feet thudded up, then crossed heavy above his head. He looked down at the board, at pieces that had scattered slightly when Mark had stood up.

Nicky packed up the board by himself, a knot tightening in his stomach.

 

*

 

Whatever that scene had been earlier, he had decided not to start anything. Nothing was going to be solved by jumping to conclusions. Mark was like this, would brood over things for weeks before saying anything, and half the time there wasn't much to say. He'd get into an odd mood, then come out of it, and everything would be back to normal.

Nicky had checked on him about an hour in, and he'd been fast asleep. Nicky had kissed his forehead, tucked him in a little tighter, and left him. Normally he'd snuggle down beside him and maybe watch him sleep for a bit, but he had the feeling Mark wouldn't want company if he woke and didn't want to push it.

When he went up a second time, Mark was awake, was half sat up and rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Mark yawned. “How long was I asleep?”

“Couple hours. I'm doing sandwiches. Chicken okay?”

“Fine.” Mark sank back down, clumsy with sleep. He looked slightly disoriented, but then he usually did after a midday nap. It was adorable. “Did you come in when I was asleep?”

“Just for a minute, to check on you,” Nicky admitted. “You were very cute.”

“Yeah, thought I felt something. Wasn't sure if I dreamt it.” He snuggled down into the pillow again. He'd probably get up soon, but waking up was done in stages, with Mark. If you interrupted him, he was like to be cranky the whole rest of the day. Nicky went to sit on the bed, figuring there was no point leaving yet. “Might have a shower before lunch.”

“I'll put it on for you.” Nicky stood back up, heading over to the ensuite. He heard the springs squeak as he was testing the temperature, feet pad across the floor. When he turned around Mark was lurking in the doorway. “Hi there.”

“Hey.” Mark pulled off his t-shirt. Nicky stood back, trying to make his approval obvious. Mark gave him a blushing look.

“Gorgeous.”

“Erm... yeah.” He put a hand under the water, nodded, and began to wriggle out of his pyjama bottoms. Then he was stepping in, moving a little gingerly until he got used to the temperature. Nicky was about to leave when the shower door opened again and a hand reached out. “Get in here.”

“Oh. Right.” Nicky couldn't get out of his jeans fast enough. Soon he was stripped and climbing in, wincing a little in the heat. Mark always liked the shower hotter than he did. He yelped in surprise as he was pressed to the tiles, a shock of cold against his back. “What...”

“Shut up.” Mark's fingers were too hard on his upper arm. Nicky whimpered, feeling the bruise of it. “Just... shut up, okay?”

“Okay.” Nicky hesitated. “Do you want to talk about...”

“No,” Mark interrupted. “I don't. I want to...” He sucked at Nicky's jaw, then bit down hard. Nicky let out a whimper. It was hot, he supposed, but too hard, too fast. Maybe Mark was trying to be spontaneous, or rough or something, but...

Teeth bit down again, digging into his shoulder.

“Go easy, love,” he managed. A growl was his only answer. The hand on his arm let go, starting to grope roughly down his back. It closed on his arse, fingers a brand on his flesh. “Ow,” Nicky muttered. Mark didn't seem to hear. He was still biting, fingernails scraping. It hurt. “Ow,” Nicky said again, louder. “Mark... stop, babe. That hurts.”

“You wanted it like this,” Mark urged. He sounded rough, not like Mark at all. “You told me.”

“That was a stupid fantasy. I didn't mean...” Fingers twisted his nipple too roughly. “No, babe. Ow.” He pulled away. Couldn't in the cramped shower stall. Mark was already pushing him to the tiles again, trying to turn him around. “Stop it.”

“You want it.” He was spun around, helpless on the slippery tiles. “Gonna fuck you.”

“Let me _go._ ” Nicky slammed his elbow back in panic, not sure what else to do. Felt it connect. Heard all the breath go out of Mark, and when he looked over Mark was doubled over, arms crossed over his stomach.

“Ah...”

“I said _stop_.” Nicky turned, back pressed to the tiles and looking down warily. Mark was white. Winded, Nicky realised. He'd felt the give against his elbow. “I told you.”

“You said...”

“I don't give a _fuck_ what I said.” His own voice sounded hysterical. He ran both hands over his face, trying to get his racing heart under control. “I said _stop_.”

“Ah...” Mark was still trying to get a breath in. Nicky turned the water off. It was suddenly silent in here, except for Mark's pained gasps.

“Come on.” He got Mark out of the shower, forced him to stand up straight. “Okay, little breath.” He watched it tremble in, though Mark's eyes were panicked. Nicky hoped it hurt, suddenly. Hoped Mark felt as helpless as he had. “You're just winded. Don't panic.” He cupped Mark's cheek, locking their eyes together. “Breathe slowly.” Mark did. After a while his struggling lungs managed to catch up. He sagged against the counter, watching Nicky warily. Nicky watched back.

“I'm sorry.”

“Good,” Nicky shot back. Mark was going red, now, tears standing in his eyes. “What the fuck was that?”

“I'm so sorry. I don't know what...” Mark let out a little sob. Nicky hesitated. Mark didn't cry. He didn't. He wasn't now, really, but something was wrong here, and Nicky didn't know what to do. “I'm so sorry. I... I was trying to be what you wanted and...”

“Yeah, I've always wanted a boyfriend who tries to force me in a shower.” Nicky crossed his arms. “Top of the list.”

“I didn't...” Mark shook his head. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Why did I do what?”

“Just...” Mark's bottom lip was trembling. “I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't.”

“Can't _what?_ ”

“I...” Mark studied him. Nicky stared back, not sure what to say. “Nothing, apparently.” He ran his hands over his face, then reached for his clothes.

“But...”

“I'll see you round.”

“Mark...”

Mark shook his head, and stormed from the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Nicky wasn't sure what to do. Stood in the steamy room, the sting of Mark's fingers still digging into his arms. By the time his heart stopped racing he could hear movement downstairs.

He needed to talk to Mark. They needed to figure this out.

He shivered when he opened the bathroom door, the cold air rushing in as the steam rushed out. The door slammed downstairs.

When he reached the bottom floor the car was already driving away.

 

*

 

Nicky sat on the front step, shivering in the rain.

He was soaked. He didn't know what else to do. Mark had driven away over two hours ago, the tail-lights a goodbye glowing through the humid mist rising off the puddled ground. Nicky had stood in shock for long minutes, still naked, not able to believe that any of this had happened, not even sure how they'd gotten here.

Now he was sat in the same spot, dressed in increasingly sodden clothes, watching the mist for any sign of headlights.

The bruises were starting to come up, stinging on his arm and back, tender fingerprints. He couldn't pay them any mind. They were going numb anyway, as he got colder and colder, the rain trickling down the back of his neck.

He'd cried, for a bit. When he'd stopped he'd sat still, staring up the muddy road. Then he'd cried a bit more.

He didn't know what to do.

A crack of lightning split the sky. He flinched. It was too dangerous out here, probably, and maybe Mark wasn't coming back at all. Maybe...

He pushed himself to his feet and went back inside.

He thought about another shower, a hot one, but the idea made him feel sick. He couldn't get back in that shower again. Couldn't. Instead he stripped off, towelled himself down, and slid into a clean pair of pyjamas. He was still cold, his fingers and toes numb, but he was dry at least. He sat down near the window to wait, though it was getting too hard to see, almost five in the afternoon, the sun starting to go down.

He reached for his phone. He'd tried to call Mark, but his phone had been off. The police, maybe. But Mark wasn't missing. They'd had a fight, and he'd stormed out. That wasn't suspicious.

Nicky wasn't even sure if they'd had a fight. He wasn't even sure if someone was in the wrong. If he was angry or sad or just terrified.

The phone rang three times.

“Hey, Nico! How's the holiday?”

Nicky was about to say 'fine', just out of habit. Instead, when he opened his mouth all that came out was a helpless sob.

“Nicky?” Shane sounded concerned already, bless him. “Are you...”

“Shay. Hey.” He rallied himself, though his voice broke. “Erm... you haven't heard from Mark, have you?”

“Mark? No. He's with you.”

“Yeah. He's...” Nicky looked around the empty cottage, and the empty fireplace, and the rain-streaked window. “Erm.” He swallowed. “You haven't, then.”

“What's going on?”

“He's missing,” Nicky managed. Shane was silent on the other end.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Start from the beginning.”

 


	4. Day Four

Talking to Shane had helped. It hadn't brought Mark back, of course, but at least it had made him feel a bit less alone, had calmed him down some. The rain was still coming down hard, didn't look in any chance of letting up soon, and Nicky was still sat at the window overlooking the drive, watching for lights in the darkness.

Mark still wasn't answering his phone, though it had been turned on at some point. It kept ringing out. Nicky just wanted a reply, something, to let him know Mark was okay.

Shane had seemed baffled as well, when Nicky had laid it all out. All that mess about what Nicky wanted, and honesty, and being strange during Scrabble. That sexy, possessive scene in the car, and the way Mark had seemed to be pulling away from him before they'd gotten here, been distant and almost wary, had talked about compromising on certain things as long as they stayed together.

Nicky felt his stomach sink.

Maybe Mark had done something. Something guilty that he didn't want to tell Nicky. Maybe that was what this was about, trying to make sure they were okay before Mark dropped the bomb.

But Mark wouldn't cheat on him. Mark would never...

Nicky pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling a fresh rush of tears shudder through him.

Mark wouldn't...

Oh god.

Mark had cheated on him.

 

*

 

When the sun came up Nicky was still sat on the chair near the window. He'd dozed, nodding in and out in the armchair, woken with a start thinking Mark had come back. He hadn't, though, and Nicky wasn't going anywhere either, unless he brought the car back. He didn't want to go anywhere without Mark.

Even if...

It hurt to think about it. Maybe Nicky was being crazy, jumping to conclusions and over-thinking from being stuck on his own, but it made sense. Somewhere along the line Mark had done something unforgivable, had had it stewing inside him. Nicky had felt the distance, seen that look in Mark's eyes a few times, like he was looking Nicky over and trying to figure something out. Maybe whether to stay or not. If the other lad was... was better.

His next sob stuck in his throat.

He'd wanted to come here to reconnect. To figure out why they hadn't been as happy lately. He'd never expected Mark to have...

It was early when he saw the glow of headlights break through the rain, shimmering off the window. He climbed to his feet, heart in his throat, not sure what to say when Mark got in. Not sure if he wasn't just going to slam the door in his face.

There was a knock. Nicky went to the door, hand trembling.

“Hey, Nicky.”

“Kian.” Nicky stared. “What are you...”

“Shane called me.” He got an apologetic smile. “Thought I'd drop in.”

“Bit of a hike.”

“Yeah, wasn't doing anything else.” Kian reached out an arm. Nicky fell into the hug, feeling a new surge of tears shiver up his throat. “Come on. Make me a cup of tea, and we'll try to find Mark.”

 

*

 

“I think Mark's cheating on me,” Nicky whispered. Kian looked up in surprise. He was stood in the kitchen, sorting out some hot drinks while Nicky sat at the table, folded hands fidgeting in front of him.

“Mark is?”

Nicky nodded slowly. “He's just... he's been saying some things lately, and he kind of flew off the handle, saying he thought he could do this, but he can't and... I just don't know any more.”

“Has he said he is?”

“No.” Nicky chewed his lip, trying to think. “But a while back... he was being weird. Like, asking where I was going to be, and calling me at random times and to see what I was doing. Maybe he was...”

“Like, checking where you were in case he was going to get busted?” Nicky nodded slowly. “I sort of remember that, actually. Like, there were a couple times he came into my room and asked if I'd seen you. I figured it was just Mark being Mark, but...” He pursed his lips. “He did ask me once whether I thought one of the guys on the crew was cute.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. Some lad. I said I was probably the wrong person to ask, in fairness.”

“He was cheating with someone in the crew?”

“I don't know, Nico, that's all he said. It didn't really seem strange at the time, it was just Mark. He always says random shit. I didn't think much of it.” Nicky nodded. Mark was the king of being quiet for ages, then coming out with something odd and pointless. “I tried to call him when Shane rang me, but his phone was off. You had any luck?”

“No. It keeps ringing out. Jesus, Kian, what if this is...” He felt a lump of panic wring it's way up his chest. “What if he's leaving me? What if it's over?”

“Maybe he didn't cheat on you.”

“But...” Nicky covered his face. “Fuck. Fuck.” He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn't begin to fathom it, a life without Mark. It was like Mark had said, they were like a partnership more than a couple. Too many things rode on them being together, not just the romantic stuff. They had a life. They had...

“Nicky.” A hand covered his. “You need to calm down, mate.”

“He can't leave me,” Nicky sobbed. “He can't.”

“Okay. Well...” Kian was hesitating. Nicky understood, suddenly, why he'd come. It wasn't as though Kian was going to pick himself up out of his holiday and come to bloody Scotland to solve a lover's tiff. “Maybe we could see about counselling or something. The four of us, even, if you want to...”

“This isn't about the _band_ , Kian,” Nicky spat. The hand over his loosened. “This is my life.”

“I know. I know it is.” Kian hesitated. “I'm not suggesting...” When Nicky looked up Kian was blushing a little, looking ashamed. “Nico, look, when you got together I'm not going to say we weren't nervous, the three of us. Bryan, as well, at the time. We were happy for you, but relationships...” He sighed. “Maybe you can work it out or something?”

“Maybe I can forget that he cheated on me?” Nicky yanked his hand away. “Jesus, Kian.”

“I'm not saying...”

“If you're not here to help find Mark, you can get the fuck out.” Nicky shoved away from the table. “Seriously. I don't give two fucks about the band right now, I just want to find my boyfriend, because he's the love of my damn life and he's got a shitload of fucking explaining to do. Whether or not we work it out is up to us. I'm not going to put on a happy face just so we can flog some more covers.”

“Nicky...”

“Are you here to help or not?”

“I'm here to help.” Kian stood up too, and reached out a tentative hand. “I'm sorry. I got ahead of myself. Of course I'm worried about Mark.” He touched Nicky's arm. Nicky watched it warily, then let himself be pulled into a hug. He sagged into strong arms. “I'm sorry.”

“S'okay.” Nicky sniffed. “I just want him back.”

“I know.” Kian squeezed, but didn't let go. Nicky was grateful. “Let's get you something to eat, and I'll try his phone again.”

 

*

 

Kian didn't get onto Mark. The phone rang out, and he left a voicemail. Then another one. Nicky tried as well, to much the same result. He didn't know what to say, so when the beep announced that he was being recorded he just mumbled something about Mark ringing him back to let him know he was safe, then hung up. Kian watched sympathetically from the armchair.

“Great holiday weather,” he joked when Nicky sat down. Nicky snorted.

“Yeah, started yesterday. I think someone up there's throwing a tantrum.” There was a sudden roll of thunder. They both flinched. “See? Just threw his Legos across the floor.”

“Might need a time out,” Kian agreed. “How's the holiday been otherwise, then?”

“Weird,” Nicky admitted. “We had an incident with a goose.”

“An incident?” Kian chuckled. “Do tell.”

So Nicky did. He left out the bit about having sex in the car, didn't really want to think about that himself, after everything. He just said that the goose had sodded off after awhile, by which point Kian was already laughing.

“Think he's still out there somewhere,” Nicky finished. “Colonel Mustard, waiting for his moment to attack.”

“Colonel Mustard?”

“We were going to invite him in to play Cluedo.”

“You two are weird.” Nicky shrugged. They were. They always had been, though it was a very particular kind of weird that they'd sort of invented between the two of them, strange in-jokes and little trains of thought that would somehow turn into a joint exercise in being intentionally obtuse. Nicky liked being weird with Mark.

He was starting to think maybe he could get past this, if Mark wanted to. Hoped he could. It hurt. Felt like being crushed under a mountain of stone, Mark piling on pebbles until Nicky could feel himself breaking, but what hurt worse was the idea of Mark leaving. Of not having that weirdness, that comfort, for the rest of his life. Of having to start again with someone else, always knowing that they weren't Mark. That they couldn't be Mark.

He just wanted to _talk_ to him. Understand why. Try to find some reason to forgive him, to work around it and get that thing back that they'd always had.

Nicky didn't know if he could ever trust Mark again. He wanted to try.

“Who's that?” Kian's phone had just dinged. Mark. Maybe it was Mark.

“Jodi.” Kian read the message, then began to text back.

“Where's she?”

“London. We were visiting her family when Shane called. Think she's a bit annoyed I left.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine. We're there for a week, so I'll catch up with them when this gets sorted.” He finished typing, hit send, and put the phone back down. “They're all driving me mental talking about wedding preparations and things. We haven't even set a date yet.”

“It's exciting, though.”

“Yeah. It is. I guess we've been together so long, though, part of me feels like it's all just... extra stuff, if you know what I mean? Like, if we didn't get married we'd still be us. I want to, don't get me wrong, but if we didn't it wouldn't change anything.”

“You'd have to find another excuse to get on the lash.”

“Like I've ever needed one.” Kian winked. “Speaking of, you lot'll have to sort me a stag.”

“Strippers?”

“No thanks. I know what sort of taste you two have. Don't need some lad's bollocks in my face.” He grimaced. “Something chilled'd be nice. Beach thing, or something like that.”

“You're organising it for yourself, sounds like.”

“Well I'm not allowed near the wedding,” Kian joked. “She says hi, by the way. She tried to call Mark as well, figured maybe he'd pick up if it wasn't one of us.”

“And?”

“No luck.” The phone beeped again. “Sorry, just a second.”

“It's okay.” Nicky yawned. He was wrecked, hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours.

“Why don't you go crash out for a bit,” Kian suggested. “I'll keep trying Mark, keep an eye out in case he comes back. You're going to pass out if you don't rest.”

“I'm okay.” Another yawned swelled through him, escaping through the hand he put over his mouth. Kian gave him a pointed look. “Okay, yeah,” he conceded. “Maybe I should.”

“Off you go.” Kian looked back down at his phone. “I've got this alright? Go get some sleep.”

 

*

 

Nicky didn't know how to sleep without Mark there. It was the first thing they'd done, when they'd told the others, organise to have a proper room together. Not that they hadn't been sleeping in each other's rooms most nights anyway, but not having to sneak down the hall, knowing that when he slid into bed Mark was right there too, there was something completely brilliant and comforting about that. Curling up under the blankets and getting to kiss someone goodnight.

The right side of the bed felt too big, too empty. Nicky always slept on the left, though they were always in each other's spaces, a hand curled up near Nicky's face, his own leg tossed over Mark's. Lying back-to-back, feeling a strong spine lined up perfectly with his, and a hand reaching back to pat him sleepily on the thigh. It was perfection.

This wasn't right at all.

He wriggled across the bed. There was no groove here, not like in their bed at home, but still it felt better on the right side. He could smell Mark in the pillow, and he breathed in deep, trying not to cry.

Maybe it had just been the once. Some stupid thing, and Mark had slipped or... or done something he regretted. And if it had just been the once, maybe Mark had decided to stay. With Nicky. Because they wanted to be together. Because Mark loved him.

Nicky loved him too.

He just didn't know how to forgive him for this.

 

*

 

Nicky woke with a start.

Mark. Where was...

He realised, after a few groggy moments of staring at the wrong side of the bed. Didn't want to remember why he was here. It was dark in here, but the clock said it was just after midday, and the sky was still heavy grey outside, lonely droplets making tracks down the window across from the bed.

When he made it downstairs Kian was on the sofa, talking on his phone.

“Yes. Yeah, Louis, I know. No.” He paused, saw Nicky standing in the doorway, and waved. Nicky waved back. “Well, we're on holidays, aren't we? We don't need to find him for another ten months regardless.” Louis didn't sound impressed by that at all. “It's fine, really. Yeah.” He said some more pleasantries, then hung up. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicky sat down beside him. “Louis knows?”

“I called him. Thought he might be able to ring Mark, knock some sense into him.”

“Probably call his mam for that, then. Woman's his kryptonite.”

“Thought about it, but I didn't want to worry her.” Kian sighed. “I tried his phone, but it's turned off again.” Nicky felt his stomach sink. “Which is a good thing, in a way.”

“How?”

“We know he's still safe, right? If he's mucking about with his phone. He hasn't like... driven the car into a ditch or something.”

“That makes me feel loads better, Kian. Thanks.” Nicky rested his chin in his hands. “What do we do?”

“Nothing. At this point he'll just have to come back on his own.” Yeah, Nicky suspected that might have been the answer. “I can stay tonight, if you want, but I have to head back to Jodi's in the morning. If he hasn't come back by then, do you want to come with me?” He was trying to sound cheerful, but Nicky heard it in his voice. Kian didn't think Mark was coming back at all.

“I'll wait for him.” Maybe he was being stubborn. He didn't care. “As long as it takes.”

“How many days have you got the cabin booked for?”

“Another three.”

“Maybe he's gone back to your place?”

“Maybe,” Nicky agreed. “But what if I leave and he comes here and thinks I've left him? I can't...” He was going to cry again. Fuck. “I'll wait for him,” he said again. “If he doesn't come back, he doesn't come back, but I'm not going to leave until I have to.”

“How will you get back without the car?”

“I'll think of something.”

“Okay.” Kian didn't like it. Nicky didn't care. “Well, why don't I make us some lunch and we can do something. Keep your mind off it. I think I saw Scrabble around here somewhere...”

“No,” Nicky said quickly. “No Scrabble.” Kian raised an eyebrow. “We'll just wait,” he decided. “We'll wait until he comes back.”

 

*

 

Mark didn't come back.

By the time night fell Nicky was almost hysterical. Kian kept trying to comfort him, and Nicky was glad he was here, because he thought by this point he'd probably be charging through the woods screaming Mark's name if left to his own devices. His fingernails were bitten to the quick as it was, and Kian kept making him cups of tea and pushing them into his hands, just to keep him from pacing erratically around the cottage.

“We have to go find him.” Nicky looked out the window. It was black out there. The storm was back with a vengeance. “What if he's hurt?”

“Where are you going to look? It's been over twenty-four hours,” Kian pointed out. “He could be in another country by now.”

“I...” Nicky bit his lip. “Call him again.”

“Just tried. His phone's still off.”

“Maybe it got stolen. Maybe he's hurt.”

“Or maybe he stropped out, got sick of all of us ringing, and turned it off,” Kian reasoned. Nicky knew that made sense, but it didn't help in the slightest. “Breathe, Nicky. It's Mark. You know what he's like when he gets in a mood.”

“I...” Kian was right. If Mark was upset, he'd just want to be by himself. He'd at least call, though, or text, or let Nicky know somehow that he was alright.

Nicky had a horrible thought.

“You don't think...” He swallowed hard. “You don't think he's gone to... to be with _him_ , do you?”

“No. I don't.” Kian's voice left no room for argument. “Do you?”

“I don't _know_.” He got up to look out the window again. No sign. “We need to go for a drive. Maybe he's close by.”

“Where are we going to drive to?”

“I don't care. Just...” He covered his mouth as his voice cracked. Kian was beside him in an instant.

“Stop.” His hands caught Nicky's wrists. “Stop, okay? This is getting ridiculous. Mark is a grown-up, you got into a fight, he stropped off.” Nicky nodded, trying to calm his breathing. He was being ridiculous. He was. Kian sighed, and pulled him into a hug.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay.” Kian squeezed him tighter. “How about we go for a little drive, though, just in case.”

Nicky knew Kian was trying to placate him, that they both knew it was pointless. He was grateful anyway.

“Yes please,” he said. “Just in case.”

“Okay.” Kian let go to dig his keys out of his pocket. “Leave him a note, and I'll go bring the car around.”

 

*

 

_Marky_

_I don't know where you are, but if you come back and find this note, I've gone to see if I can find you._

_I'm not sure what's going on but I love you and want to work it out. Please call me. No matter what it is, I forgive you. And if it's something I did, I'm sorry, and I want to make it up to you. Please just let me know that you're okay._

_I love you_

_Your Nicky xox_

 

*

 

It was late when they got back. Nicky didn't know what he was looking for, but as they wound through the village and back around the lake, he knew it was completely pointless. It was pissing down raining, and the darkness was painted like pitch onto the windows. If Mark had been sitting on the bonnet of the car they wouldn't have seen him.

They pulled back into the driveway at almost eleven, the rain as heavy as ever. Kian took the muddy road carefully, lip bitten and eyes narrowed in concentration as they rounded the trees and pulled up in front of the cottage.

Nicky had left the lights on in the living room, so there was enough to see by as he went to open the passenger-side door.

Then he realised.

“You didn't leave the upstairs light on, did you?”

“No.” Nicky hesitated. “He's back.”

“Either that, or it's a very determined burglar.” Kian looked up at the house, but there was no other sign, no silhouette. A second later the light clicked off. Nicky felt his heart lurch. “You want me to come in with you?”

“I...” He didn't know how to say this without sounding like an arsehole, like he was sending Kian off in the middle of a wet night after he'd come all this way. Kian got there first.

“It's fine. You need to talk.” Kian squeezed his shoulder. “If I start driving now I can get a red-eye.”

“Kian, I...”

“It's fine,” Kian said again. “Came to do what I meant to, right? Make sure the band's okay.” Nicky felt a swell of shame. He reached out to pull Kian into a hug. “It's okay,” Kian promised. “You go sort your fella out.”

“Thank you.” Nicky let go, then turned to look up at the house.

Fuck.

 

*

 

He wasn't sure how to behave when he pushed the front door open. Shouting at Mark was definitely on the list, but he couldn't find the words. He just wanted to fall into his arms, and have Mark say that it was all okay, that it was all a mad misunderstanding, and that they could go back to the way things had always been.

Mark was sitting at the kitchen counter, Nicky's note in front of him.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” Nicky said carefully. “You're back.”

“Yeah.” Mark still hadn't looked up. “Had a few missed calls. Thought I'd better make sure you were... you know. Alive.”

“Oh. Cheers, then. I'm...” He wasn't okay. “I'm alive.”

“I can see that.” Mark looked up, finally. “Got your note.” He sighed. “Nicky...”

“I forgive you,” Nicky blurted. Mark raised an eyebrow, lips pursing.

“You forgive _me_?”

“I... yes. For... for cheating on me.” Nicky hesitated. Mark's other eyebrow was raising now. “I wish you'd told me, if we were having problems or if... if you... I don't know, made a mistake? But I forgive you. If you want to work it out, I want to.”

“For...” Mark shook his head. “I didn't cheat on you.”

“Oh.” Nicky put a hand over his racing heart. “Oh thank god.” A hysterical laugh spilled out. Mark was still watching him carefully.

“You cheated on me.”

“What?” Nicky froze. Mark looked down into his mug.

“I know everything, Nicky. He told me. I...” The love of Nicky's life drew in a deep breath, tears standing in his eyes. “I though I could get past it, but I can't. I'm sorry. We're...” His hands tightened into fists. “We're done.”

 

*

 

Nicky was fairly certain he blacked out for a moment, so completely frozen in shock and horror. His brain just completely shut down, and by the time it rebooted Mark was up and headed for the stairs, the note left on the counter.

He found Mark in the bedroom, folding his things back into a bag. Nicky stood in the door, not sure what to make of any of this.

“Marky.” Mark just shook his head. “I didn't cheat on you.”

“Don't... lie to me.” Mark's voice broke. When Nicky stepped closer he saw Mark's shoulders stiffen, saw him hunch over the bag. Nicky put a hand on his shoulder, and though Mark flinched away he didn't let go.

“What do you think I did?” Nicky asked carefully.

“He told me, Nicky.” Mark sounded angry, now. “He was fucking bragging about it, you know? Said I should know my boyfriend was a cheat, but believe me, he didn't seem that sorry. I...” He wiped his eyes. “I didn't believe him at first, but then I saw you and...” He yanked the zip closed, too fast. It got stuck halfway. He swore, beginning to tug at it.

“Hey.” Nicky reached over, pulled Mark's fingers away, and zipped it carefully closed himself. Mark didn't move. “Okay, first of all, I have no idea what you're talking about.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, between Mark and the bag. “Start from the beginning.”

“Stop it,” Mark breathed. “I don't believe you.”

“And I haven't done anything wrong,” Nicky promised. “I thought you had. After all that stuff about compromising, and being different people... I thought you'd cheated on me, honestly.” Glassy eyes flicked up, red and disbelieving. “Tell me.”

“I...” A flicker of uncertainty ran across Mark's face. “We've been having trouble, you know we have,” he said quietly. “I... I tried. The last year or so. I thought maybe it was just a bad patch, but then.” He swallowed. “About six months ago this lad from the lighting crew told me you two had...” His voice cracked.

“Which guy?”

“Dunno. New guy. We were arguing a lot and we were apart a bit and then I saw you flirting with him. Like, he was all over you and you definitely didn't mind, so...”

“Was he?” Nicky tried to remember. He flirted with everyone. It wasn't personal, and he'd never meant anything by it. He'd always been outgoing, could talk the paint off a wall if he got in a mood. “Did you think I was sneaking off to...”

“He told me you were.”

“And you didn't think to ask me?” Mark looked away. “Are you...” He couldn't breathe all of a sudden. “Are you seriously telling me for the last six months you thought I was fucking someone else?” There was no reply. Nicky could feel himself shaking. “Oh my god.”

“Don't lie to me. Please. I couldn't...”

“I'm not. Oh fuck.” He laughed. Mark sat heavily down into the chair at the corner of the room. “Oh fuck. You... Why? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want it to be true,” Mark admitted. “And then he left, and we... we started to patch things up a bit so I thought maybe you'd decided to stay. And if you'd decided to stay maybe I could too.I was trying. To be what you wanted. Maybe he was doing something I wasn't, so I thought...”

“Jesus.” Nicky couldn't even fathom that idea. Of knowing he'd been betrayed and just keeping that to himself for the rest of his life, pretending it hadn't happened. He'd been prepared to work it out if Mark had cheated, but this... “Jesus, Mark.”

“You really didn't?”

“I really didn't.” He covered his mouth, thinking he was about ready to be sick, two days of worry bubbling up. Mark looked pale. “I never would.”

“Oh god,” Mark murmured, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. “Oh god.” A harsh sob spasmed out of his chest. “Oh god.”

“Come here.” Nicky didn't want to touch him, perversely. Was almost disgusted to. But it was Mark, and Nicky needed to hold him or fall apart.

Mark was in his arms a moment later, sunk to his knees in front of the bed, arms wrapped tight around Nicky's waist and face buried in his stomach, wracking sobs shaking him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. Nicky nodded, stroking his hair.

“Good.” He blinked away his own tears. “We need to talk about this.”

 


	5. Day Five

They climbed into bed. Mark looked exhausted, Nicky felt much the same. The sheets were cold on his skin. Mark looked at him warily, eyes red. Nicky looked back.

“Where were you?”

“Just drove, mostly,” Mark said. “Got about halfway to the village, and then didn't know where to go, so I parked in behind an old barn and slept for a bit.” He reached out, fingers tracing the tiny bruises on Nicky's shoulder. They stung a little, but they weren't too bad. Nicky had almost forgotten about them. “I'm sorry. About this. I never meant...”

“It's okay.” It wasn't. “Would you have stopped?”

“I don't...” Mark shrugged. “I think in my head it made sense. I wanted to be what you wanted me to be. Then maybe you'd stay.”

“I wasn't going anywhere.”

“No.” His bottom lip trembled. “Fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“We'll worry about that later,” Nicky promised. “Right now...” He touched Mark's cheek. “We're not right, are we? This can't be right, both of us behaving like this.” Mark shook his head. “What happened to us? We used to be okay.”

“I thought you were cheating on me.”

“If you thought that three years ago you'd storm in, ask what I was playing at, I'd tell you to fuck off, and we'd both go kick the crap out of whoever that lying little shit-stirrer was.” Mark snorted. “When did we stop telling each other the truth?”

“I don't know. Maybe...” Mark sighed. “Maybe things got too easy, or something. Everything was nice and we didn't want to rock the boat by admitting there were actually problems.”

“Maybe.” That probably made sense. Nicky could remember biting his tongue more than once if it meant not having an argument. “Do you love me?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“Yes.” Nicky felt a swell of hope, of misery. He loved this boy, didn't know how to be without him. Didn't know how to be with him. Not now. “Are you happy?”

“I...” Mark hesitated. “I'm not, no. If you'd asked me two days ago I would have said I was, but maybe it just happened so slowly I didn't notice in time.” Nicky nodded.

“I haven't been for a while. In the same way, I guess, but I knew I wasn't and I think I was just hoping if I kept going then things would get better. Can I have a hug?” He needed one, suddenly. Mark reached out, Nicky sidled in, and there it was, as effortless as ever. Skin on skin and a careful kiss on his hair. Nicky buried his face in Mark's shoulder, breathing in his scent. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You were going to leave me.” He felt Mark nod. “Are you still?”

“I don't know yet.” Nicky nodded. “I don't want to. I want to try. To get back to...” He trailed off. Nicky kissed his neck.

“I want that too.” He pulled away slightly, caught eyes he'd always thought were so honest, that couldn't lie to him. Mark bit his lip. “What do we do now?”

“I don't know.”

In the end they got some sleep. There was time to talk about it tomorrow, and for now Nicky just wanted to remember what this was like, being held. Having Mark wrapped around him so tight that every breath smelled of him, holding together all the pieces he didn't want to admit were broken.

 

*

 

Mark was making breakfast. Usually when one of the cooked they'd be talking, making fun of each other and nagging over stupid things, like whether that was too much salt or if the stove should be turned down. Now there was just the empty sizzle of butter in the pan, the patter of rain outside.

“Rain's easing off. Thought we'd be swimming home,” Mark commented. Nicky nodded.

“Yeah, I was worried about you getting bogged down.”

“Oh. No, I was okay.” Mark glanced back over his shoulder. “I'm sorry I worried you.” Nicky nodded, not sure if he should say it was fine. “The usual?”

“Yes.” His nose wrinkled as a sneeze welled up. “'choo!” Mark laughed.

“Bless you.”

“Cheers.” He sneezed again. “Shit.”

“You're not getting sick?”

“Well, I did sit out in the rain waiting for you,” Nicky shot back. He took a deep breath. No. He was being bitchy, now, lashing out. This wasn't going to make things any better. Mark had gone quiet, was focused back on the pan. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered. “I have some cold and flu in my bag, if you want it.”

“Thanks. Yeah.” His throat was a bit sore. “This probably isn't a good start to patching things up, is it?”

“If you figure out the right way to do it, let me know.” Mark turned back around, a couple of plates in his hands. “Here.” He sat on the stool on the other side of the island, picking up his fork. Nicky did the same. “Sorry's not going to fix anything.”

“Even if it was, I don't know which of us should be saying it.” He began to pick absently at his eggs. “I am sorry, though. Not for me so much, but that it's turned out so wrong. I thought...” He sighed. “I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to just wait it out, but maybe that wasn't what we needed.”

“Maybe not.” Mark sat down. “I want to be in love with you again. I want that more than anything.”

“Me too.” He felt tears spring to his eyes. “You're my best friend.”

“Same.” Mark's hand covered his. He dropped the fork, let their fingers curl together. Nicky leaned across to drop a careful peck on his mouth, felt a squeeze when he did.

“I feel like...” He couldn't let go of Mark's hand. Not now. “I feel like if we broke up, we wouldn't be best friends anymore. I don't want that. I can't...” He bit his lip. “You're everything I ever wanted.”

“Yeah,” Mark said solemnly. Nicky's fingers flexed in the air for a second when Mark pulled free and picked up his fork instead. “So, where were you when I got back in?”

“Driving around looking for you.” Mark looked up in confusion. “Kian came to help. I called Shane, he called Kian.”

“Bit of a hike.”

“Yeah, I think...” He laughed, though it sounded shrill in his own ears. “Think he was worried we'd break up and torpedo the band or something.”

“Sounds like him.” Mark grimaced. He hesitated. “If we broke up, would you leave the band, then?”

“I don't know.” Nicky looked at his eggs, very aware that they'd said 'break up' three times in under a minute. Mark was watching him carefully. He ran a hand over his face, trying to think. “I'd like to say no, but...” It was too difficult an idea to process. “I think I'd keep going, and see how it all went. Maybe it'd be like last time. Maybe it just wouldn't be worth it any more.”

“Don't know that we could manage with three.”

“Yeah, Kian could have all of my millions of solos,” Nicky teased. Mark snorted. “Are we breaking up? Is that what we're talking about here?”

“No. I don't know. No.” Mark took his hand again. Nicky held fast, not prepared to let go this time. “I really don't want to. I want to work it out. Maybe we can't go back to the way things were, but...”

“I want to try.” They smiled warily at each other. Nicky threaded their fingers together, feeling that familiar touch against his skin. “Let's have breakfast,” he decided. “Then we'll do something. Go for a walk or play a game or just... something. Together.”

“Okay.” Mark picked up his fork with his left hand, his right staying firmly in Nicky's.

Nicky began to pick at his eggs, not letting go.

 

*

 

“You can't,” Mark laughed. Nicky grinned, looking over his shoulder.

“I can.” He squared up, trying to judge the distance. Perched on an old stump on the side of the path. It had creaked when he'd jumped on, but seemed to be holding. Mark was standing beside him, looking bemused.

“It's too far.”

“Don't care.” He looked at the rock on the other side of the path. It was a big one, flat and grey. He'd been doing this most of the walk, pretending the floor was lava, and Mark had played along for a bit as well, though he'd given up when he'd been walking along a log and had overbalanced off the side. Nicky suspected he was just playing along now to see exactly how far Nicky could get before he got bored.

“Off you go, then.” Mark ambled to the other side of the path. “Rooting for you.”

“Ah cheers.” He winked. “Okay.” The stump was rotten, but he managed to crouch a little, bunching his knees up and trying to aim. Mark looked like he was trying not to laugh. Nicky appreciated the effort.

“Are you going to jump, or am I going to stand here all day?”

“Would you shut up?” Nicky teased. “What have you got that's better to do?” Mark shrugged. “Exactly. Alright...” He pursed his lips, tried to coil like a spring, somehow. Mark was still laughing.

He leapt. Knew it had been a mistake a moment later. Not a chance. He hit the ground about two feet out from it, feet thudding into the dirt. Mark snorted.

“That was amazing.”

“Thanks.” He smiled as Mark wandered over. “Okay, now we can go do what you want to do.”

“Brilliant.” Arms wrapped around his waist. Then he yelped as he was lifted awkwardly into the air, feet dangling a couple of inches above the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.” Mark's voice sounded strained. Nicky huffed out a laugh, breathless with Mark's arms cutting off his middle. Three steps later and he was dumped onto the rock, feet awkwardly finding their way. Mark let go. “There we are. Good jump.”

“Thanks.” Nicky was still breathless. Mark's face was a little red.

“I'll pretend I didn't see you touch the ground, if you want to keep playing.”

He hopped down off the rock. “No, that's cheating.” Their hands threaded together, Nicky falling into step as Mark began to walk. The lake was nearby, but they'd ambled up a bit into the woods. Now they were starting to turn back downhill, guided by the sound of babbling water. “You should have seen Kian when he came over. It was like one of those old movies, opening the door to him in a coat, rain pissing down.”

“Was it the romantic kind of movie, where he's come to save the day, or the horror kind, where it turns out he's an axe-murderer?”

“Well, it's Kian.”

“Axe-murderer, then.” They both smirked. Mark stretched slightly, turning his head with a groan.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just stiff from sleeping in the car.” He yawned. “So, what happened next in this movie?”

“Not much. He sat up with me a bit, made me go get some sleep. I didn't want to, but I was wrecked. When I got up he was talking to Louis.”

“He didn't tell Louis about this?”

“Might have,” Nicky admitted. “Think he was hoping he'd order you back or something.”

“I'm surprised he didn't call my mam.”

“We didn't want to worry her.” He looked up. “I'm sorry. I wouldn't have told anyone but Shane, but then it kind of started to turn into Chinese whispers. I'll text Louis when we get back to let him know everything's fine. Kian's probably already given him the rundown, but you know.”

“Ah, let him stew in it for a bit.” Mark snorted. “I'm on holidays, anyway. If I want to strop off, that's my business.”

“That's what I said.” Nicky kissed his cheek. “Please don't do it again.”

“I'll try.” An arm looped around his waist. It made walking a little awkward, but he didn't mind. “I know why I did it, but I hated every minute of it. I kept thinking I was going to drive to the airport and just go home, pack my bags before you figured out I was gone, but then I just couldn't do it. Ended up sitting in the car for hours, just staring into space.”

“Yeah.” Nicky bit his lip. “I'm glad you came back.”

“Me too.” Mark kissed his cheek, squeezing him. Tears filled Nicky's eyes. He blinked them away.

“A whole year off, though.” He rested his head on Mark's shoulder for a moment, just to feel him. Mark kissed his hair. The trees broke, and they were back at the lake. The rain had cleared while they'd been eating, but the sky was still overcast, the water almost the same colour. A couple of ducks were floating in the distance, breaking up the grey.

“Plans?”

“Don't know.”

“Thinking I'll go to Sligo for a couple of weeks, spend some time with the family.” Nicky nodded. He'd been expecting that. “Are you coming?”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Do you want to come?” They looked at each other awkwardly. Nicky swallowed down the lump in his throat. Three days ago this wouldn't have even been a conversation. He would have just gone, because that was where Mark was going. Now he didn't know what he was supposed to do, whether he was supposed to be giving Mark his space.

“Do you want me there?”

Mark let out a pained little laugh. “Why is this so hard all of a sudden?”

“I don't know.” Nicky stepped out of his embrace, ambled down to the water. He looked for a rock to skip, but they were all lumpy and round, not good skipping stones. The water was still, so pooh sticks was out. He was crouching down, looking for something to occupy himself, when fingers touched the back of his neck.

“I want you to come.”

“I want to come.”

“Why didn't you just say that, then?”

“Why didn't you?” Nicky let out the breath he'd been holding. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Mark's fingers were still on the back of his neck. Careful touch. “Fuck.”

 

*

 

It started spitting again, so they headed back. By the time they made it to the front door it was a heavy drizzle, and Nicky's hair was plastered to his forehead, water trickling down the back of his neck. Mark shrugged off his jacket and went to get a couple of towels, and so they stood in the front hall, drying off.

“I think I've spent half this holiday soaking wet,” Nicky commented. “I'll turn into a fish.”

“You'd be a very good fish.”

“Thanks.” He scrubbed his hair for the last time, then hung the towel over his shoulder, waiting for Mark to finish. “I could be a mermaid.”

“Merman.”

“One of them.”

“What would I do with your bits, though? Do mermen have like... bits?” Mark was looking thoughtful. “Is it like fish, where the girl fish just sort of drops eggs and the boy comes along and like... comes on them?”

“We don't have a girl fish, though, so we'd be fine.”

“True.” They began to head upstairs. A hot shower was probably in order. “Maybe it'd be easier if the top half was a fish, then? Then your bits would be alright.”

“But then I'd have a fish's head. And I wouldn't be able to jerk you off with fins.”

“Fish can't talk, can they?” Mark teased. Nicky shoved him, pouting. “I'm glad you're not a fish.”

“Thanks.” He began to strip off, feeling a tingle of unease when he stepped towards the shower stall. He knew it was silly, wasn't like to happen again, but when he looked over his shoulder Mark was biting his lip, looking sorry for himself. For both of them. “You want first shower?”

“You go.” Mark began to pull off wet jeans. They'd left their shoes and socks at the door to dry. “I'll wait.”

“Yeah.” He shook off the crouching sense of worry. This was probably silly. Mark would never hurt him. He shrugged off his clothes as quickly as he could and stepped into the shower before he could overthink it, turning the water on hot. When he looked over Mark was perched on the edge of the sink in his boxers, feet dangling idly in the air.

“I love you,” Mark said suddenly. Nicky looked up in surprise. “Just... thought I'd say it.” He smiled bashfully. “Love you, Nico.”

“Love you too.” The water was too hot. He turned it down a little. Steam was fogging up the glass, turning Mark blurry. He scrubbed his hand across it to make a window, smiling when Mark waved.

He waved too, laughing. Mark grinned bashfully back.

“All done,” he announced after a few minutes. He was warmer, anyway. The tiles were a little slippery when he stepped out, and they sidled around each other so Mark could climb in under the running water, a soft sigh drifting out when he tilted his head back.

“Oh, that's brilliant,” Mark sighed again. “I'm going to stay in here forever.”

“What about food?”

“Dunno. What doesn't go soggy in water?”

“Apple, maybe? Or a boiled egg.”

“Will you bring me apples and boiled eggs?”

“Get them yourself.”

“No, then I'll have to get out. I'll just starve. It's fine.”

“Suit yourself.” Nicky snorted. Mark scrubbed the window back into the misty glass. “Marky?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Oh.” Nicky saw that smile again, tentative and shy. This wasn't solid ground yet, not by a long shot, but for the first time in a few days he felt something almost content trickle through him. “Good, then. I love you too.” Mark pushed open the shower door. “You want to get in?”

“Not this time.” Mark nodded. “Ask me next time, okay? I just...”

“It's fine.” The door closed again. Nicky watched him scrub a new window through the steam. “We've still got a couple days, right?”

“We do,” Nicky agreed.

 

*

 

The rest of the afternoon was relaxed. After the shower Nicky made a light lunch, just a salad and some crusty bread that had come in the welcome basket and had to be eaten before it went stale. Mark thanked him for lunch and kissed him gently on the cheek, and when Nicky looked up there was a shy blush spilling into Mark's face.

They fell asleep on the sofa in the mid-afternoon. It had been a hard couple of days, and Nicky was exhausted. When he woke up he had a crick in his neck and was alone. A few minutes investigation found Mark upstairs, in bed. That seemed like a brilliant idea, so Nicky sidled in as well, rolling into him.

“Hey,” Mark mumbled. Nicky kissed his nose. “Couldn't get comfortable. Didn't want to wake you.”

“S'fine.” He closed his eyes. “Hold me for a bit, okay? Please.”

“Yeah.” Arms wrapped tight around his waist. There was long silence for a moment. Nicky yawned, snuggling closer. Mark shifted, and Nicky tried not to sneeze when hair brushed over his closed eyelids, tickling. He could feel breath down his neck, a leg over his. There was a fist wedged in his ribs.

“Ow.” He shifted. Mark moved in the other direction, which didn't actually make things better. “Could you...” He tugged Mark's arm up, putting it under his neck instead, and when he opened his eyes he was getting a sleepy glare.

“That's not very comfortable.”

“Neither's you fisting me in the ribs.” That got a snort. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, well, your knee's in my thigh.” Mark moved again. Nicky grumbled as the sheets went with him.

“Hey!”

“Just a second.” Mark untangled the sheets. “Okay.” He flicked them back to where they were supposed to be. “Try again.”

“Yeah.” Nicky lay down beside him on his front this time, letting his arm drape over Mark's chest. It sat too high, though, wrenching his shoulder up into an odd possision.

“Stop moving.”

“You stop moving.” He pulled away, frustrated, and sat up. “This used to be fucking easy.”

“Nicky...” A hand closed carefully on his shoulder, began to knead gently when Nicky didn't reply. “What's wrong?”

“You _know_ what's wrong.” He sobbed. Felt like an idiot for getting so emotional over something as stupid as a cuddle, but the cuddle wasn't the point. “It's fucked, isn't it? We're fucked. I can't...” He tried to stand, but the hand held fast to his shoulder. “Let me go.”

“I don't want to.” Mark's grip loosened, though. Nicky could feel what he was thinking. Mark wasn't going to risk grabbing him like that again, not with bruises still marking his skin. “Come on. You're getting upset, and it's making you fidgety. You know you get fidgety when you're upset. It's fine.” Nicky sagged. Mark was right. He did, moving and pacing and feeling generally uncomfortable in his own skin. It wasn't Mark's fault.

“Sorry,” he breathed.

“It's okay.” The mattress dipped, then thighs settled either side of his, arms wrapping carefully around his waist. Mark kissed his shoulder. “Don't force it. We'll sort it out in our own time.” Nicky nodded reluctantly.

“What if we don't?”

“We'll figure that out when we get to it.” Mark pulled away, laying back down. “Come here. We'll try again.”

“Yeah,” Nicky mumbled. He sank down, letting Mark turn him so they were spooned together, one hand caressing his thigh and the other tucked under his neck, holding him in.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” It was nice. He shifted to get more comfortable, then forced himelf to settle. A kiss brushed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“It's fine.” Mark's hand travelled up his side, then around to gather him around the waist. “Let's get some sleep.”

 


	6. Day Six

Nicky had always liked kissing Mark. It was comfortable, in a way that sex wasn't, though it wasn't like the sex wasn't comfortable as well. It was just simple, lips on lips and maybe a cheeky grope that didn't have to go anywhere, knowing the taste of him, the rhythm of Mark's breaths on his mouth, the teasing little licks he'd get from time to time. That they were both the sorts of people that tilted right, and that he tended to be the bottom half of the kiss while Mark tended to be the top, sucking little bites on Nicky's upper lip while Nicky enjoyed a full lower lip that always pursed into his touch.

“Mm.” Mark's eyes fluttered open as he pulled back, lips still a little slick with spit. Nicky touched his cheek.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Mark cleared his throat. Sleep was still clogging it, and he hadn't brushed his teeth yet. Nicky didn't mind. “Sleep okay?”

“Not really.” He'd woken up a lot. Tossed and turned, hand reaching over to the other side of the bed in the dark, sure for a moment that Mark had gone again.

“Me either,” Mark admitted. “Like, I slept, it was just...”

“Broken.”

“Yeah.” Mark turned, kissing the hand that was still stroking his stubble. Nicky smiled back. “What do you want to do today?”

“Don't care.” He kissed Mark's nose. “Stay in bed with you for a bit. Just...” He shook his head. “Stay in bed with you.”

“It's our last whole day here and you want to stay in bed?” Nicky nodded. Mark studied him for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally. “We stay in bed.” Nicky was grateful. He hoped Mark understood how tired he was, how he didn't want Mark out of his sight, even for a moment. Was glad that even if Mark didn't understand exactly why, he knew it was what Nicky needed. “Can I go to the bathroom first?”

Nicky let him go reluctantly, watching him wander towards the en suite in his boxers. Thirty seconds later there was a flush and the tap ran, then Mark was coming back. Nicky let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

“What are we going to do in bed all day?” Mark asked.

“Don't know.” Nicky smiled. “We could talk.”

“Okay.” Mark lay down beside him, looking earnest. “Talk to me, then.”

“About what?”

“I don't know. You wanted to talk.” Nicky knew they should probably be talking about everything that had happened, but it felt like they'd already done that too much, like dwelling on it would make it seem even worse than it was. There were no answers there, nothing that could be sorted out with another conversation.

“Do you want to have sex?”

“Not really.” Nicky nodded, relieved. He didn't want to either. “So, no talk, no sex,” Mark chuckled. “What's behind door number three?” Nicky shrugged. “There's some books downstairs. I could go get a couple.”

“No,” Nicky said quickly. Mark raised an eyebrow. “Come here, okay?” He gestured. Mark shifted in, snuggling up next to him. His hair was a little tangled when Nicky ran his hand through it. “Closer.”

“If I get any closer I'll be on top of you.”

“Do that, then.” Mark looked at him curiously, then shrugged, climbing over so he was laid full length on top of Nicky, legs settled between Nicky's thighs, propped up slightly on his elbows.

“Like this?”

“Yes please.”

“Why?”

Nicky shook his head. He couldn't explain it, exactly. Mark was a heavy bastard, was squashing all of the air out of him, and his hipbones were like bloody chair-legs digging into Nicky's thighs. But there was something comforting about it, something he realised he'd needed, almost hysterically. Mark's weight on him. Proof that he was heavy and real and not going anywhere. He tugged Mark down, until a dark head rested in his shoulder, then wrapped his arms around him tight.

“You okay?”

“No.” Nicky kissed his forehead. “Stay there, alright?” Mark nodded.

“I'm not squashing you?”

“I don't care if you are.” He squeezed Mark gently, felt him huff out a breath in response. There was silence for a long time. Nicky closed his eyes, felt himself drift a little, feeling suddenly like he could relax again. A kiss touched to his shoulder.

“You want to hear a story?”

“Sure.” Nicky didn't open his eyes. “What kind?”

“True one.” Mark hesitated. “So... you know when you came in and kissed me that time? Like, that first kiss.”

“Yeah.” Nicky smiled. He remembered it way too well. “What about it?”

“I erm... well, I was definitely surprised,” Mark laughed. “Like, just standing there sorting out my clothes for the next day. I think I was trying to decide whether I could be bothered to brush my teeth, or something stupid like that. Then you knocked and I was kind of like 'oh, fuck, he's going to want to have a chat or something, and I'm never going to get to sleep'.”

“Thanks.” Nicky glared playfully. Mark kissed his shoulder.

“And then you said 'hey', and grabbed me, and I panicked for a second. And then... you know.” Nicky snorted. He knew very well. “So... yeah. That happened, and we made out for a bit, and you went back to your room.”

“I know this story.”

“I know you do.” Mark hesitated again, sounding a little anxious. “You don't know the bit that happened next, though.”

“Really?” Nicky opened his eyes, intrigued. Mark was looking up at him nervously. “What happened next?”

“I erm...” He took a deep breath. “I'd actually decided to get back with Ro that day. He'd called me and we'd gotten to talking, and we'd decided to meet up when I got back to Sligo, give it another go. I was excited about it, you know? He's my best friend, and I was looking forward to...” He trailed off. “So... yeah.”

“You were going to get back together with Rowen?”

“Yep.” Mark grimaced. “Then he called me again the next morning and I told him what had happened with you. I said I didn't think it meant anything, or like... I didn't know what it meant, but I wasn't going to entertain that with you, basically, not with the band being so new.”

“Oh.” Nicky swallowed back a swell of jealousy. Of course that made sense. It had just been a snog after all.

“He took it alright. I wondered if he'd think I was cheating on him or something, but we weren't really together yet, so he just kind of asked how it had been. Whether I had like... feelings.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I didn't know.” Mark looked up. “So we just kind of decided to meet anyway, in Sligo, and he said if anything happened between you and me in the meantime, that was fine, and we could figure it out then. We were on tour and it was going to be a couple of months, so I said yes.”

“You were going to ditch me?” Nicky pulled away a little, stung. Mark shook his head, though, holding him still.

“That's not the point of the story.” They settled again, Nicky a little reluctantly. “So, I decided not to let it happen again. Rowen was a good, stable thing. We could have had a good life. It all made a lot of sense. Then a few days later you and I ended up snogging again, and I thought no, definitely the last time. I didn't want to get in too deep, get confused. This wasn't my future, I already knew that. Like, you and me? That was a mental idea.” He snorted. Nicky shook his head, laughing softly as well.

“So then what?”

“Well, then...” Mark smiled. “It happened again. And again. And then about six weeks later we were fucking in my room, and I was still telling myself 'no, last time, definitely the last time', and I looked up and you looked so fucking _beautiful,_ you know? Like, sexy as hell, but I couldn't stop looking at your face. And you were giving me this look back, like I was the best thing in the world, and afterwards I just ended up sitting in my room trying to get my head in order, because this obviously wasn't going to happen. I was seeing Rowen in two weeks, anyway.”

Nicky nodded, not sure what to say.

“So... two weeks later I went to Sligo and told Rowen it was still on, if he'd have me. And the first thing he asked was what had been going on between the two of us, and I didn't even say anything, but he just kind of nodded. He asked if I was in love with you, and I said no. Then he asked again, and told me to cut the bullshit.

“So I said, yeah. I think I'm in love with Nicky.”

“Why...” Nicky swallowed. He wasn't sure if he was angry, or jealous, or maybe a little touched. Mark was still looking at him nervously. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I never wanted you to think you were second choice. You weren't. Even if I was an idiot, I always would have come back to you. I'd have tried, with Rowen, but I know it never would have been...” He sighed. “You're the best damn thing I've ever had, and now I've almost ruined it twice.”

“You haven't...” Nicky blinked tears away. “Fuck. Fucking hell. I don't...” He wanted to push Mark away and sit up, scream into his hands until the pain went away, but Mark was heavy, and didn't look like he was going anywhere. “Fuck.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“Because I want you to know. That no matter what, I'd always pick you. Always. Even if my head got all messed up and everyone could see it but me. I think too much, and I try to do the sensible thing, and make these decisions about how to make my life the way I think it should be. Like... being with Rowen, or trying to ignore that you were cheating on me, but it doesn't make it any better in the long run. I don't want secrets. Even if it's an old one that doesn't really matter any more.”

“Shit, Mark.” Nicky bit his lip, looking up at the ceiling. Mark was right. It didn't really matter anymore. It didn't make it hurt any less.

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” He couldn't say it was fine. Wasn't even sure if there was something to forgive. Mark propped himself up slightly, his weight lifting away. Nicky wanted it back. “So now I know something new about you.”

“Guess so.” Mark's cheeks were pink with blush. Nicky touched one, feeling it hot under his fingers. “Are you angry?”

“Yes,” Nicky said. Mark nodded. “And jealous, and... and betrayed. But mostly I'm fucked off that I could have lost you to someone else and didn't even know about it, because I would have fought tooth and bloody claw to keep you.” He watched a smile dart through blue eyes, nervous and guilty, but definitely a smile. “I'd always fight to keep you.”

“I'd always choose you,” Mark promised.

“Guess we'd better stay together, then.” A kiss pressed to his cheek, twisted by a slight smirk.

“Guess we'd better.” Mark lay back down, his weight holding Nicky to the bed.

 

*

 

“So we have... nutella sandwiches...” He handed the plate to Mark, laughing when his boyfriend snatched it quickly from his hand. “Okay, calm down. Here's your cuppa.” He handed that over as well, got a grateful grin.

“Thanks.”

“One of them's mine,” he reminded Mark, before they were both gone. He put his own cuppa on the side-table and slid back into bed. It had been interesting, carrying two mugs and a plate up the stairs, but he'd managed alright. They were staying in bed all day, and he had the feeling if both of them got up at once it wouldn't count, that they might as well stay up.

He took his sandwich and began to nibble absently at the corner. Mark's was almost gone already. Nicky pecked his cheek, got a smile and a content hum for his troubles.

“Found something while you were downstairs,” Mark announced.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, in my drawer. Last people must have left it.” Mark reached over, and when came back it was with a book in his hand.

“Birds of the Scottish Countryside.” Nicky snorted. “They must have known you were coming, babe.”

“Starting to think this whole holiday's a bit of a cruel practical joke.” Mark put the book back in the drawer. “Check your drawer. Maybe there's one about the history of lifts or something.”

“Maybe.” Nicky poked him, got a smirk. “Well, at least I understand the bird thing, now. That thing was terrifying.”

“That's what I keep telling people.”

“Should have believed you.” Nicky finished his sandwich, then sank down, snuggling into Mark's side. A kiss touched his hair. “Tell you what, I've found some weird things in rooms over the years. Probably left some stuff, too. The maids probably sold it on eBay. Real left sock, worn by Nicky Byrne.”

“How do you know if it's the left one?”

“It was on my left foot.”

“Makes sense.” Mark kissed his cheek. “I always forget my sunglasses in hotel rooms. And books. But half the time it's because I've read them and can't be bothered taking them with me.”

“So you just leave them for someone else to deal with? You celebrities, so selfish. Wanting people to wait on you hand and foot, picking up your terrible paperbacks.”

“It's a lifestyle,” Mark joked. “I think I'm terrible at being a celebrity. I always feel bad when someone does something for me that I could have just done myself, even if I didn't ask. Especially if I didn't ask. Like, I say thank you, but I didn't really want this bottle of water and now I have to drink it because otherwise I'd feel rude.”

“I don't know. Sometimes a bit of luxury's not a bad thing. Like, remember when we had to squash two to a room, and they were always these divey Travelodge places, and now we get the big fancy bed and there's always wine and flowers and stuff? That's nice.”

“We still go two to a room.”

“You can have your own room if you want.” Nicky nudged him. Mark shook his head.

“Nah, it's fine. Saving money and that.” Fingers drifted carefully up and down Nicky's arm, and they snuggled closer together. “It's probably a good thing we don't use sex toys all that much. I'd hate a maid to find like... used anal beads or something.”

“God, could you imagine how much they'd go for on eBay?”

“I don't want to think about what the buyer would do with them.” Mark pulled a disgusted face. “Feel like that's a really good way to spread germs.”

“Urgh.” Nicky laughed. “I've never had much truck with the complicated stuff, in fairness. It's not worth it if you've got to spend twenty minutes reading the instructions.”

“Or if you need an allen key to put it together.”

“Yeah.” Nicky sighed. “Are we really boring?”

“Probably. Do you mind?”

“No.” Nicky kissed his chin, heard a slight purr, so he did it again, letting his mouth open a little wider, his tongue dart out for a moment. “Do you?”

“Nope.” Mark's head tilted back. “Mm.”

“Mm,” Nicky agreed, sucking the kiss lower, down his throat. A stubbly throat arched towards his mouth. He pulled away, smirking, heard Mark grumble. “Can I ask you something?” Mark nodded. “When...” He hesitated. He was probably going to break the moment here, but he had to ask. “When you found I was cheating on you, or that you thought I was...” He swallowed. “We've had sex since then. I mean, we've had sex a bunch of times since then. How could you...” he looked away. “I don't think I would have been able to.”

There was a long silence beside him. When Nicky finally got the courage to look at him, Mark was looking down at his lap, lip bitten.

“Babe?”

“I don't...” Mark sighed. “It was three days later. I didn't...” He shook his head. “I was so angry. I was really angry, and hurt, and I didn't...” His fingers had tightened on Nicky's shoulder, almost too hard. “You rolled over and started kissing me, and I didn't want to let on that I knew. I hadn't decided what to do yet, and I still loved you, and I thought maybe...” He sniffed. “I thought I could smell him on you the whole time, even if I knew that was crazy, and it wasn't even great sex or anything. It felt like I was fucking a stranger.” His cheeks were going red. “I never want to feel like that again. Not ever.” He looked at Nicky from under knitted brows.

“I didn't come. I just kind of... I let you finish and when you asked what was wrong I just said I was tired. I hated it. I hated lying to you. I hated feeling like you were lying to me.” Nicky moved closer, feeling like he wanted to cry. “And then a couple of days later I tried again, and I kept trying, until I just...” He swallowed. “I think in my head I almost decided you _were_ a stranger, because if you were my Nicky and you'd done that to me, I couldn't keep doing it.”

“Jesus.” Nicky covered his mouth, a lump moving up his throat. Mark was back to staring at the sheets again. “Love...”

“Did you notice?”

“No,” Nicky admitted. “I just thought...” He pulled Mark in closer, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck. “I think I was pretending too. Not that you were a stranger, but that everything was fine. I was trying so hard to be okay, that I didn't notice that you weren't.” He closed his eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

“I'm sorry too,” Mark murmured. Nicky kissed his neck as they held each other tight.

 

*

 

“The Short-eared Owl can be found in most parts of Scotland. They hunt during the day and nest on the ground in open areas...”

Nicky closed his eyes. Mark was reading softly from the book, at Nicky's instruction. Staying in bed all day was a good idea, but they'd rather run out of things to do around midday, and his back was sort of starting to hurt from being propped up at an odd angle.

“The Long-eared Owl is smaller in size than a woodpigeon, and...”

“I love you,” he mumbled. Mark paused, and Nicky felt fingers run gently through his hair. He was curled up with his head at Mark's waist, the pillow soft beneath him.

“Love you too.” He could hear a smile in Mark's voice. “You going to sleep?”

“I'm learning about owls.”

“Yeah, you are,” Mark chuckled. “Barn owl's next. You ready for the excitement?”

“I'll have to brace myself. Give me a minute.” He yawned. “Mm.”

“You're gorgeous,” Mark muttered. Nicky nuzzled into his thigh, hugging it tight.

“Is there a section about geese? Maybe there's a picture of Colonel Mustard.”

“Maybe.” He heard the soft thud of Mark putting the book down on the floor beside the bed. Then there was a creak, a dip in the mattress, and he opened his eyes to see blue ones looking at him. Their fingers knotted together between them, Nicky shifting closer so he could kiss Mark on the lips.

“C'mere,” he breathed. Mark kissed him again. Soft and comfortable, the way it had always been. The taste flooded his mouth. It tasted like warmth, and a little bit like tea and nutella. A hand cupped to his cheek, and when he shifted the blankets slightly they were pressed together, Mark's pyjama bottoms soft on his bare legs.

They weren't there much longer. He felt Mark swallow, felt the kiss deepen, and suddenly they were wriggling out of their clothes under the blankets, Nicky's boxers tossed off the side, Mark's pyjama bottoms kicked out of the end. Nicky's thigh went across, yanking Mark against him, though the kiss didn't part, not for a second, Mark's hands closing on his arse while Nicky moaned his approval into a soft mouth.

Mark's t-shirt went a moment later. Nicky growled, raking his hands down a strong chest, feeling hair catch under his nails. Mark's mouth tilted, his hips as well, urging forward into Nicky, and they both groaned when they rubbed together, Nicky thrilling at the feeling of hardening flesh against him.

“Mine,” Mark whispered against his mouth.

“Mine.”

“Yes.” Their lips caught again. Nicky tugged, rolled back, and Mark was on top of him for the second time that day, all over him. They breathed each other in, Nicky arching into the weight of him, glad he couldn't push Mark off, that Mark was holding him down. “I'm sorry.”

“Shh.” He didn't want to think about it. Wanted this to be like the first time. New and honest, and wanting each other. Needing each other. Hot kisses sucked down his throat, making him shiver, and he dragged his nails up a supple back, feeling them map every curve of him, feeling like he was learning him all over again.

He hitched his knee up, felt Mark sink further between his thighs, the pressure gorgeous when Mark thrust up a little, rubbing them together. Hair scratching on his skin and fingers exploring him. A hand stroked up his flank, thumb running the crease at his thigh, and he turned into a strong shoulder, gasping his approval.

“So beautiful,” Mark whispered. The thumb stroked him again, then moved, palm stroking up his belly, pressing just enough to push the breath out of him, teased over his nipples while a tongue traced the shell of his ear. “Want you.”

“Lube.”

“Definitely.” They both sniggered, and grinned at each other playfully. Mark kissed the tip of his nose. “Are you sure? I mean, after...”

“Don't... talk about that.” He glanced towards the bathroom, forced himself to look away. “No baggage. None of it. Let's go back six months and just...” He stroked Mark's cheek. “I want to have sex with _you_. Not those bullshit versions of us. They don't exist any more, okay? They're not allowed to.”

“Okay.” Mark kissed him again. “So... lube?”

“Lube,” Nicky laughed. “Go on.” He watched Mark scramble off the bed and go to rummage in his bag. By the time he came back Nicky had gotten a fairly fantastic view of his arse. He smirked as Mark climbed back onto the mattress.

“What?”

“Really nice arse.” He gave it a quick slap. “Come here.”

“Okay.” Mark sank down, on knees and elbows. Nicky drew him in.

They went slow. The lube was forgotten for a little while, while Nicky devoured him in kiss after kiss, while Mark trailed down his body and back up again, licking into every hollow, stroking into every crease until Nicky rolled them over and did the same, tasting and feeling every inch of him, wanting to find all the spots he'd neglected out of apathy and thoughtlessness, that he'd forgotten to love on purpose and just taken for granted would always been there.

Mark giggled when he tongued into his navel, and when Nicky looked up he was getting a fond smile, Mark's eyes dancing and alive in a way they hadn't been in months.

“What?”

“Tickles.” He tugged Nicky up. Nicky went, laughing as well. “I want you.”

“I've always wanted you.” He straddled his boyfriend, wriggling when he felt hard arousal twitch beneath him. Mark groaned, flinching a little. “You're happy to see me.”

“You have no idea.” Fingers played over him without warning, and Nicky yelped in surprise, pressing back when one touched to him again. He grabbed the lube, spread it over Mark's fingers, then guided them back again. He felt the stroke, bit his lip against it.

It eased in gently. Hurt, a little, always did, but Mark was watching him. Eyes locked on his face, on his expression when he whimpered and pressed back, watching red lips when a tongue darted out to wet them.

“Oh, Nicky,” Mark breathed. Nicky whimpered again. Mark's eyes didn't leave his face, drinking him in, stripping him bare. “Is it good?”

“Yes,” Nicky whispered. “Yes.” He closed his eyes, opened them again just as quickly, not wanting to lose the connection of Mark's gaze.

“This was always my favourite part.” They drew closer together, noses rubbing against each other, breathing the same air. Nicky pecked his mouth, saw thunderstorm eyes darken, filling his whole world. “Opening you up. Feeling you take me.” He kissed Nicky quickly, and Nicky felt the slight tremble in his hand, the leak of stickiness beneath him. “Wanting me so much you'd let me...” He swallowed hard, voice rough with lust. “It's better than fucking you. Making you...” His fingers connected, then, and Nicky let out a cry, the ripple of pressure and electricity overwhelming. Stroking the spot now that they'd found it, nudging him up the ladder of his orgasm.

“There.” Mark didn't need to be told. “There, oh...” He gasped again. “Mark...”

“Fuck,” Mark whispered. He sucked ragged moans into Nicky's jaw. “Oh fuck, baby, that's...” Nicky felt himself tighten, the ripple of muscles drawing Mark's digits in. Another slipped in. The stretch was agony, burning down his coiled thighs, up through his belly. Mark's other hand was holding him, palming up the side of his neck while Nicky clung to him.

“Ah...”

“So open for me.” Nicky groaned. Mark never talked like this, only in his dreams. His own nails were scratching into strong shoulders, soft hips, trying to find some kind of purchase while Mark pulled him apart. “Hot and wet and mine.”

Nicky whined a prayer into Mark's shoulder. Kisses licked at his ear, then coaxed down, sucking their mouths together. Nicky sucked back. Bit. Trembled when Mark rutted against him, pushing up against his swollen balls.

“Fuck me,” he managed. Wished he wasn't begging. “I need you.”

“Feel you first.” The fingers stroked deeper, back out, finding a thrusting rhythm that curled over him with every push. Nicky sobbed. “Oh god, Nicky.” The kisses were ragged, pursed into every breath. “Oh god.” Mark sounded almost lost. “I love you,” he croaked. “I love you, I love you, I...”

“Now.” Neither of them were going to last much longer. Nicky wrapped around him, felt a strong arm trap him, protect him. Pull him up, then he was in, Nicky gritting through the spread while Mark eased him all the way down, eyes still locked onto him, Mark's own face caught in the same blissful agony Nicky suspected was written all over his own.

They stayed there like that for a long time. Nicky seated, Mark inside him. He could feel it, full and thick and alive, beating a pulse that matched his own. Hands soothed down his back, up his sides, kisses dragging him through the thrumming ache of pain that didn't matter. Couldn't matter. Not with Mark holding him close, not letting him go.

“I don't want you to move,” Mark admitted a few minutes later. “If you move, I'll come.”

“You don't want to?”

“I want to stay here forever.” He was pink, pale skin glowing with flush. “Don't move.”

“If you move, I'll come too,” Nicky laughed. Mark smirked, nuzzling into him.

“That's okay, though. If you come, I can still stay in you.”

“Selfish,” Nicky teased. “Sounds like a plan, though. We'll get back after the break, and have to figure out how to do choreography with your cock in my arse.”

“I'm sure Priscilla will think of something,” Mark mused. “And when we're recording, we can strap the microphone to the back of your head.”

“You're not messing up my hair.”

“Apologies.” Mark kissed his forehead. “TV interviews could be interesting.”

“Have to get the seatbelt around both of us when we're in the car.”

“It'll be worth it.” Mark drew him into a hug. Nicky hugged back, feeling more at home than he had in a very long time, regardless of if they were having sex or not. “I'm going to move now.”

“Okay.” Nicky lifted slightly, saw blue eyes flutter closed in pleasure, pink cheeks going pinker. It wasn't going to last much longer, definitely not, but Nicky supposed there was always going to be a next time. It was a comforting thought, one he realised he hadn't been certain of in far too long.

Mark moved. Nicky cried out, gripping too tight.

“I love you,” Mark whispered, his hips setting a rhythm, rocking them closer to the finish line. Nicky shivered, felt everything in him stumble and fall. Felt the spill, the rush of heat filling him, their mouths locked so tightly together neither of them could make a sound.

 


	7. Going Home

Nicky couldn't find his bloody sunglasses.

He knew he'd had them two days before, back when they'd wandered down to the lake. But suddenly they were nowhere to be found. He bent down to look under the bed, wondering if they were going to end up on eBay like the imaginary anal beads.

“Ah!” He yelped as he felt the flat of a hand connect with his arse, and turned around with a glare. Mark smirked. “Help you?”

“Think you already have.” The hand swatted him a little gentler this time, playful, and Nicky laughed. “What you doing?”

“Sunglasses. Can't find them.”

“You left them on the patio table.” Nicky nodded, going to climb to his feet. “Oh, don't get up. Enjoying the view.”

“I'll just crawl down the stairs, then?”

“Sounds like a challenge.” Mark stood back, crossing his arms. “Off you go.”

“No thanks.” He stood, dusting off his knees, then turned to the suitcase he was packing, opened up on the bed. This, at least, was something he'd had plenty of practice in. Mark kissed his shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist.

They'd woken up late. Ridiculous, probably, considering they'd been in bed all the day before, but Nicky had been exhausted. More tired than he could ever explain, though he knew Mark understood from the circles under his boyfriend's eyes. By the time they'd finally stumbled out of bed and into a shared shower, then had some breakfast, it was almost time to go

“You packed?”

“I am.” Mark let go. “I sent Shane and Kian a text, let them know everything's fine.” He paused. “Everything's fine, right?”

“Getting there.” Nicky turned around. He wasn't naïve enough to think that everything could be fixed in a few days, but this certainly felt like a good start. Mark didn't comment. Nicky knew he understood.

“We've got a whole year off, anyway. Should be interesting.”

“Should be.” He touched Mark's cheek. “Car loaded up?”

“Yep.”

“Checked the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing left in drawers?”

“Nope.” Nicky nodded, turning around to zip his own suitcase shut.

“Okay.” He hauled it off the bed and onto the floor. “Let's get on the road, then. Airport check-in's in three hours.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Mark caught his hand and pulled it off the suitcase, using it to tug Nicky into a gentle kiss. Nicky sank, his arms finding the curve of Mark's waist. “I can't promise everything will always be perfect, but I can promise that I won't leave you like that again.” He touched Nicky's cheek. “That I'll be honest with you.”

“Then we'll probably be alright.” Nicky pecked his lips. “I promise I'll always fight for you.”

“Ditto.” Mark squeezed him, then let go. Nicky's hand found the hand of the suitcase, hefting it off the floor. The other found Mark's. “Come on.”

“Coming,” Nicky chuckled, letting Mark tow him towards the stairs.

 

*

 

It really was pretty. Nicky wound back up the drive, the sunlight dappling a net over Mark's face as he stared out the window, eyes watching the lake. Fingers curled into his, and he squeezed them quickly before letting them return to the steering wheel.

“Goodbye, lake,” Mark murmured. Nicky glanced at him fondly.

“Goodybe, Colonel Mustard.” There were a couple of geese floating on the water. Mark snorted.

“I'm not sure if that was a really good holiday, or the worst holiday ever.”

“It was definitely something.” He dropped his sunglasses down over his eyes. A hand touched his thigh affectionately. The treeline broke, and he reached out an arm, felt Mark sidle into it, a little awkward over the gear shift. A happy hum brushed his throat. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Mark closed his eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

Nicky promised he would, and turned towards the morning sun, headed for home.

 


End file.
